


‘of REN ogi od od, 
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each, ‘issued in’ parts. at irregular intervals. 
% anthropological subjects appeared as occasional 


publications with prices 


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| ‘should be a \ 


The Horse ar 





ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS 


OF 


THE AMERICAN MUSEUM 
OF NATURAL HISTORY 


VOL. NVeePARTS Et 


THE HORSE AND THE DOG IN HIDATSA CULTURE. 
BY 


GILBERT L. WILSON. 





—_——— 





AMERICAN MUSEUM PRESS 
NEW YORK 
1924 


THE HORSE AND THE DOG IN HIDATSA CULTURE. 


By GILBERT L. WILSON. 


125 

















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EDITOR’S NOTE. 


During the interval 1908-1918, Doctor Gilbert L. Wilson spent from 
one to two months of each year among the Hidatsa Indians, collecting 
for the Museum and gathering information as to their culture. The 
accompanying pages contain only that portion of his data bearing upon, 
or associated with, the dog and horse culture-complexes of the tribe. 
In all his work Doctor Wilson has looked upon the narrative, and the 
demonstrations accompanying it, as true data, to be set down as they came. 
Further, his method was to control the narrators as little as possible, 
merely holding them to the description of actual personal experiences. 
In this way he has succeeded in recording detailed cross-sections of 
Hidatsa culture. Since some of these field records approach ideal com- 
pleteness and are, therefore, unique as data, it was thought best to 
publish them in full. Attention is called to this, because otherwise the 
reader may find the arrangement a little confusing. Yet, if he is inter- 
ested solely in special topics, as dog travois, or bull-boats, the table of 
contents, and ultimately, the index at the end of the volume, will pilot 
him to the desired paragraphs. 

This paper, then, attempts to present all the narrators knew con- 
cerning the place of the dog and the horse in the culture of their tribe. 
It is not an abstract presentation, but a delineation of the many phases 
of culture closely associated with the care and use of these animals. 
Thus, it was inevitable that a great deal should be said about methods of 
camping and the order of the march, the technique of horse and dog trap- 
pings, etc. But it is rather for the picture these detailed narratives give 
of the place and function of these animals in Indian culture, that the 
author has chosen this form of presentation. 

Another unique feature of the paper is the drawing, sketches made 
by Goodbird, the son of Buffalo-bird-woman, but in each case under the 
eye of the narrator. These also are literally reproduced by tracings, for 
which acknowledgment should be made to Mr. F. N. Wilson. 

The importance of this study, however, lies in that over and above 
its factual contribution, it gives new light on culture processes. The dog 
came to the Hidatsa in prehistoric time, together with an elaborate cul- 
ture-complex. Then, with the coming of the white man, the horse was 
passed on to this tribe. With the horse came a culture-complex of Old 
World origin, to displace the dog-complex. Just how the adjustment of 
the latter complex to the former was made, could be little more than 
guessed from the available data, but now we have in hand a large part 

127 


128 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


of the story. It is possible to go through these two complexes point by 
point and thus determine in just how far the horse was fitted into the old 
dog culture and in turn what the horse brought with him from his Old 
World setting. When such a study is made and the available data for 
other Indian tribes re-interpreted, we shall at least know the history 


of one set of culture-complexes. It is as a contribution to this end that 
the author offers these narratives. 


GoW 


PREFACE 


The Hidatsa, or Gros Ventre, called Minitari by the Mandan, are a 
Siouan tribe speaking a dialect akin to that of the Crow. Tradition has 
it that the founders of the tribe, happily climbing a grapevine, emerged 
from the waters of Devils Lake, in what is now North Dakota, and that, 
migrating west, they met the Mandan at the mouth of the Heart 
River. It is likely that enemies forced the Hidatsa to migrate and that 
they were only too glad to form an alliance with the Mandan, who 
generously aided them to build villages near their own. How long the 
two tribes dwelt at the mouth of the Heart is not known. They were 
found there with the Arikara about 1765; in 1804, Lewis and Clark found 
them in the Five Villages at the mouth of the Knife River. 

It is probable that the culture characteristics of the two tribes is of 
Mandan origin. Certainly, the traditions of both tribes agree that the 
Hidatsa knew nothing of corn culture until taught by the Mandan. 
They were apt pupils; in the sign language the sign for “‘Hidatsa”’ is a 
motion as of shelling corn from an ear. 

Smallpox nearly exterminated the Mandan in 1837-8 and reduced 
the Hidatsa to about five hundred persons. The remnants of the tribes 
united and in 1845 moved up the Missouri and built a village of earth- 
lodges at Like-a-fishhook bend, close to the trading post of old Fort 
Berthold. They were joined by the Arikara in 1862 and neighboring 
lands were set apart as a reservation for the three tribes. The families 
began settling on allotments about 1885, and their picturesque village of 
earth-lodges was abandoned. 

The Mandan and Hidatsa have intermarried much. By custom, 
children speak the language of the mother, but the dialects of both tribes 
are understood by nearly all. Few of either tribe have married Arikara. 

With his brother, Frederick N. Wilson, an artist, the writer first 
visited the Hidatsa in 1906, enjoying a month’s camping while his 
brother made sketches for a volume of myths. At Independence, they 
made the acquaintance of Edward Goodbird, his mother Maxidiwiac or 
Buffalo-bird-woman, and the latter’s brother, Wolf-chief. A friendship 
was thus begun which the writer of this paper sincerely valuas. 

In 1908, the writer and his brother were sent-by Dr. Clark Wissler, 
Curator of Anthropology, American Museum of Natural History,. to 
begin cultural studies among the Hidatsa. This work, generously sup- 
ported by the Museum, was continued each year in summer vacations, 
until the autumn of 1918. In 1910, the writer was admitted as a student 
in the graduate school of the University of Minnesota, majoring in 

129 


130 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


anthropology; and during the next six years, he had the valued advice 
and guidance of Dr. Albert E. Jenks. The writer, then, is a student of 
anthropology; but it has impressed him that the published studies in this 
field usually present the arts and culture of primitive man as seen through 
civilized eyes. Is not anthropology properly a study of man himself, and 
is not even the material culture of primitive man chiefly valuable to us as 
interpreting the man himself, his philosophy, or his soul? Should we not 
seek to know how every art, every material complex of his culture is 
seen by primitive man himself, how it is proportioned in his thinking, 
and what superstitions and interpretations he gives to it? 

Such is the aim of the accompanying paper and of others that may be 
published later. To the Hidatsa, the dog, for example, was an important 
beast of burden and his care and management was left to women. The 
writer has not sought the materials of his study of the dog from multiple 
sources and grouped and classified them in the more usual way. Rather, 
he has sought the viewpoint, the philosophy, of the dog’s human mistress. 
How did Buffalo-bird-woman train and care for her dogs; how did she 
value them, and how use them in hunt, journey, and domestic service? 
How much of the dog complex came into one Hidatsa woman’s life? 

Circumstances favored the writer’s labors. Independence, the home 
of his Indian friends, is an isolated point on the reservation, removed 
from white settlements. The writer boarded with Goodbird’s family, 
sleeping at night on the floor of the little chapel near by. Thus admitted 
into their home, the writer saw the reserve of an Indian family toward a 
stranger yield to a helpful and sympathetic understanding of his, to them, 
rather strange labors; labors, which without the hearty codperation of 
interpreter and informants, would have been impossible. 

A few words should be said of these faithful friends. Maxidiwiae, 
or Buffalo-bird-woman, is a daughter of Small-ankle, an able and progres- 
sive leader of the Hidatsa in the trying time of the tribe’s removal to 
what is now Fort Berthold Reservation. She was born about corn 
harvest, in the year, which by Butterfly’s winter count, began in 
November, the Moon-of-yellow-leaves, 1840. She is conservative, hold- 
ing to native beliefs and sighing for the good old times; but she realizes 
that the young must adopt civilized ways or perish. She speaks no 
English, but she has a quick intelligence and a memory that is marvelous. 
Her patience and loyal interest in these studies have been invaluable. 
On a sweltering August day she has dictated for nine hours, never flag- 
ging, though often lying prone on the cabin floor when too weary to sit 
longer in a chair. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 131 


Wolf-chief, her brother, was born the summer of 1849. An energetic 
war leader in his youth, he early saw the value of civilized culture. 
Though nearly thirty years of age, he attended the first school opened on 
the reservation, and even hired a white man to live in his cabin and teach 
him to read. He later opened a small trading store which he still manages. 
He is unable to carry on a conversation in English, but he has learned to 
read and write sufficiently to keep his rather simple trading accounts. 
He is now a Christian, of a simple, sturdy faith, respected by whites and 
Indians. Wolf-chief is a reliable authority in matters pertaining to 
men’s customs and occupations, and, unlike so many of his tribesmen, 
does not fear to give information of native religious beliefs. 

Edward Goodbird, or Tsak4kasakic, the writer’s interpreter, is a 
son of Maxidiwiac, born about November, 1869. Goodbird was one of 
‘ the first of the reservation children sent to the mission school, and he is 
now pastor of the Congregational chapel at Independence. He speaks 
the Hidatsa, Mandan, Dakota, and Crow languages. He understands 
and reads English; that he speaks it imperfectly is an advantage, as his 
interpretation is close to the idiom of the informant. Goodbird is a 
natural student and has the rarer gift of being an artist. In his youth he 
was often employed to paint war records, practising what was almost a 
profession among the Hidatsa. His sketches, and they are many, are 
- spirited but typically Indian. Unless otherwise stated, drawings in this 
paper are by Goodbird, drawn under the informant’s eye and approved 
by him. | . 

In the following pages the writer has sought to preserve all narratives 
as the informants gave them, merely arranging materials and putting 
Goodbird’s Indian-English into proper idiom. Bits of philosophy, 
personal and humorous observations are as they fell from the informants’ 
lips. The writer has sincerely endeavored to add nothing of his own. 

Native Hidatsa words in this paper are written in the following 


alphabet. 3 
aasa in what 
Seeoat iy aly 
ioe S pique 
Oo, ‘tone 
4 “a “ father 
é “ ey * they 
fe vem -gnachine 
a “yy © hut 


132 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


é as e in met 

(73 1 é¢ tin 

ec “ sh “ in shun 

x nearly like Spanish j as in pajaro 

j nearly like German ch as in mich 

z like z in azure . 

b, d, h, k, 1, m, n, p, r, s, t, w, as in English 

w is interchangeable with m, as is also the less used b. 

n, 1, and the less used r are interchangeable with d 

An apostrophe (’) marks a short, nearly inaudible breathing. 


eC 


6c 


GILBERT L. WILSON 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

EDITOR’S NOTE . : : : : : : : : pe ADT, 
PREFACE . ; ys ‘ : ; Lima biie ; 125 
HORSE CULTURE . : : : s : : ; i ; ‘ : . 141 
ORIGIN . : ary ; : : : ; ; : . 141 
IDEAS Bonceennea Fis aans : . : p : : ‘ : p.1142 
THE CoLt.. : : : ; : ; : : : : . 145 
CASTRATION . e } : : : ‘ : ; f 4 ’ . 146 
STALLIONS. ; ; : 5 : : ' ; ; ' . 149 
TRAINING : : ; : : ; , ; : : ; : : ey ho0 
To Swim 3 : : : : , ; : Pag br) | 

For War : : : ; 3 ; ; ; ; ' : : els 
Parading : : ; : ; ; ; ; ; . 153 

To Turn and Stoo 5 : ; ; : ; .. 153 

To Leapan Enemy . : ; : : ; St gaee . 154 
SUMMER PASTURING AND HERDING . : ; : ; P ; : “156 
Corral under the Drying Stage . : : : : Samer OU 

A Typical Summer Day’s Herding for Boys ; 2 : . aivnel bs Fi 
WINTER CARE OF HORSES . : . . ; ; : ; : yr 172 
Winter Lodges and Drying See : : : ; ‘ , ‘ S413 
Number of Horses and Lodges . : ? : 5 ‘ . ; vel 7 
Feeding Cottonwood Bark . , ; ; ; : ; ; : an ts) 
Feeding Dry Grass. : ; ; ; : ‘ i RST 76 
Beer red arlene Ph ee NS ee ee ee TTS 
Winter Pasturing . . ‘ : ‘ ; : ; : F ; . 18 
‘Watering the Horses . i : : : . ; ; ; é LAT 
Small-ankle’s Narrative. ; : , : ; , ; ; th, 
Feeding Corn ; ; : ; : } ; : : ; 4, ZA BO 
CARE OF HORSES ON THE Wasa : : : ; f d « 181 
PROTECTING Pack HorRSES FROM MaGpPIEs ; ; ; ; : es #9 
HORSEGEAR . ‘ : } : ; ; : F : 4 : ; . 182 
Bridles . : : ; ; i ‘ : 5 3 ; ; : . 182 
Lariats . ; : : : : : ; . : : : So ELSE 
Hobbles . : ; ; : : : é ‘ ‘ ; : c e189 
Saddles . eae } : : : : 3 ; ; : -7 190 
Saddle Skins . Sey ; : : ; : : ’ wl OZ 
Carrying Tipi Poles. : , . eee . : ‘ ; set ek 

The Travois . : ; 2 : : . : : ; ‘ J . 194 
NAMES FOR HorsEs_. ; : sree : ‘ Ay: : 5 . 194 
Our Family Herd . i ; ; 2 , ; ; 2 ‘ : . 194 
Other Names. : : : : : : : i : . : . 194 
Age Names . 4 : ; : : ; : : . : ; OS 
DOG CULTURE ; : ; : : ; ; , ‘ ’ g : . 196 
ORIGIN . E ; : : : : : ; ; . 198 
Ss otiiewou an’: s Speers : : : 3 , A ; . 199 


133 


134 


Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. 


THE Puppy 
CASTRATION . 
FEEDING. 
KENNELS 
THE VILLAGE Docs 
Dogs as PROPERTY 
GATHERING Woop 
COLLECTING WooD FROM THE Rava 
FETCHING FIREWOOD AND GAME BY Bui Bow 
TRAINING A Doc . ‘ 
NAMES AND Duccuiermonat OF OUR Tene 
CHILDREN RIDE ON A Dog TRAVOIS 
Maxine A Doe TRAVOIS 
Dog TRAvoIs SHELTER TENT 
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION CONCERNING Dock 
Dragging Tent Poles 
Carrying Water for Dogs 
Bringing in Meat by Travois 
The Leader . ; ; 
Signals for Calling Does 
Selecting Dogs 


A HUNT MADE AFOOT WITH DOGS 


The Hunting Party 
, Dress : ¢ 
The First Camp 
Roasting Meat 
The March ; 
The Second Camp 
Blood Broth . 
Blood Pudding 
Ownership of Slaughtered Gane 
Story Telling ‘ 
Third Camp . 
Fourth Camp 
Meals ; 
Feeding the Bere 
Dogs crossing a Creek 
Unloading the Dogs 
Water for Dogs 
The Tent 
Pipes : 
The Campfire 
The Beds 
Arrangement of Hagiare 
The Dogs’ psi enone 
Leaders . 
Buffalo Hunting on DES Crock: 
Cuts of Meat. : : . 


[Vol. XV, 


PAGE. 
199 
201 
201 
202 
204 
206 
206 
209 
209 
ait 
212 
216 
216 
221 
225 
225 
225 
226 
228 
228 
229 
23} 
23.1 
232 
235 
235 
236. 
237 
237 
239 
240 
240 
240 
240: 
240: 
241 
241 
241 
243 

a ae 
.% 244 
244 
244 
244 
244 
245. 
245% 
246 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 


Flaying of Hides . 

The Choice Pieces : 
How the Cuts were Slung . 
The Fifth Camp . ; 

_ Ferrying over the Missouri te Bale Bante 
Killing and Butchering ; ; 
Transporting Meat with Dogs . 

How We Traveled with Bull-Boats . 
Rescue of Awa-hitsi-kuwac 
Arrival at the Village . 
A TRIBAL HUNT TO THE YELLOWSTONE IN AUTUMN . 
Choosing a Leader 
Vehicles . : 
Order of March } 
Our Camp on the Sandbar 
Turning a Tipi 
Anchoring the Tipi 
The Fireplace 
The Fire 
Use of the Heart Sate 
Goodbird’s Birth . 
Corn Mortars. 
Crossing the River : ; 
Pack Animals and their Pode : 
The First Mule 
The Travois . 
The Bull-Boat 
The Second Mule 
The Ponies. : 
The Eight-Pole Pony, aching Tent Poles: 
Tying up a Tipi Cover 
Other Horses, Saddle, Stirrup aad Method of Rickie 
Dogs and Packs : : : 
The First Dog 
Dog Travois . 
Dog Travois Loads. 
Bull-Boats 
How Bull-Boats were Beene: on the Marche 
By Travois and Horseback with my Babe. 
Occupants of a Tent, Names and Relationship 

_ The Mandan Tent Tie bel 

Our Tent, Construction, and Poles . 
Naming Goodbird 
Descending the Missouri in Batensees 
Goodbird is nearly Drowned 

WOLF-CHIEF’S HUNT WITH DOG AND TRAVOIS . 
Horses and their Equipment 
The Dog and Travois . 


135 


PAGE. 
246 
247 
247 
248 
248 
249 
251 
253 
259 
261 
263 
263 
264 
264 
266 
266 
267 
268 
268 
269 
269 
270 
201 
212 
274 
275 
276 
277 
278 
278 
278 
279 
281 
281 


i ORY 


283 
285 
285 
287 
288 
289 
291 
294 
294 
297 
299 
299 
299 


136 


Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. 


Weapons and Ammunition . 
Snowblindness 

In Camp 

Setting up a Tent . 

Hunting Badgers . 

The Evening Meal 

Watering the Horses 

Interior Arrangement in the Tent 
Cooking Bones 

Mushrooms 

Treatment for Eyes 

Capturing and Eating Pornupines 
The Smoke Offering 

The Buffalo Hunt 

Butchering 


The Tent Collapses in a ano petoer 


The Return Trip . 
The Feast 


[Vol. XV, 


PAGE. 
299 
300 
300 
300 
300 
301 
301 
301 
301 
302 
302 
302 
304 
304 
307 
307 
310 
310 


PAGE. 
1. The Hidatsa Village in 1879 143 
2. <A Colt tied for Castration 148 
3. <A food-filled Heart Skin tied to the Belt ek mine 158 
4. Method of tying a Halter : 158 
5. Carrying a Package of Maize Ears Car to ite Elbow 158 
6. Diagram of Interior of Earth-Lodge, showing Position of Gora 160 
7. A Bow and Quiver Case in one Piece, showing Method of Carrying . 161 
8. Arrows: a, iron-headed; b, pointed wooden shafts; c, blunt-headed. 161 
9. Guiding a Horse with a Halter 161 
10. Riding Horses . 161 
11. A Snare set in a Gopher Hales 167 
12. A Stick with a Snare bound to it set in a oe Cubher Hols 167 
13. Noose tied in a Lariat for a Gopher Snare . 167 
14. Sketch of a Gopher, with Skewer thrust through te Hreparater? 6 
roasting over a Fire . ; 5 : ; srabe Ray é 
15. The Foundation for making a Bale of Giles 177 
16-17. Obverse and Reverse of a Bale of Grass, showing Method of Pyne 172 
18. Goodbird’s Sketch of a Horse with feathered Arrowshafts tied to Mane 
and Tail 183 
19. Two Forms of the acide Bridle 184 
20. Another Type of Racing Bridle : 184 
21. A Two-Rein Bridle used on a Strong-N eed ene 4 184 
22. Bridle used on a partially broken Pony in racing 184 
23. A Makeshift Bridle . : 184 © 
24. A Bridle used in Swimming and Towitig Horses . 184 
25. Scraping the Hair from a Piece of Green Hide eeraritery to mae a 
Lariat . 186 
26. Softening the Hide : 186 
27. Another Stage in the Borenibg Pree 186 
28. The Completed Lariat 186 
29. The Lariat before Trimming . 186 
30. Rawhide Hobble fastened with a Wooden Pin’ 189 
31. A Hobble for Two Feet, tied only around One . ; 189 
32. Looped Ends of Soft Tent Skin Hobble through which Biker Hopbles are 
passed to be carried . } : : : 189 
33. Method of tying a Hobble of Soft Tent Skin 189 
34. a, Pad or Racing Saddle; b, Flaying a Buffalo prctiniiaey i Been 
of a Saddle Skin. ; 192 
35. a, Pack Saddle with Deer Horn Brame + Ta enorting a Tipi Cotes ica 
. Poles 192 
36. a, Holding a Boney over aie Smoke Pefore ate First Reedy: i re Doe 
Kennel; c, Sketch of the Frame of a Second Type of Kennel 203 
37. Wolf-chief’s Model of the Frame of a Puppy Kennel : 203 
38. Hook for hauling in Floating Logs in the Missouri River . 209 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 
Text FIGURES. 


137 


Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. 


Sketch showing how Long Sticks of Wood were carried by Women 
A Bull-Boat loaded with Wood being paddled across the Missouri . 


Reviving an Unconscious Dog. 
A Bob-Tailed Dog : 
Goodbird’s Sketch of a Dog 


The Dogs run off to fight while Gronibied rides on tga TDrarais 
Travois Poles, showing Manner of Attaching and Tying . 
Measuring the Pole which is to form the Rim of the Travois Basket 


Looped Bundle of Rawhide Thong prepared for Netting Travois Basket 
Rim of the Travois Basket held in Shape for drying, by a Rawhide bist 


The Completed Travois Basket 


The Tie for securing the Load to the Traore Basket 
Frame for Shelter made by setting up Three Dog Travois atid adie 


Several Extra Poles . 


The Shelter with Flaps closed for iin N ight 


The Shelter with Flaps raised to allow Circulation of Mane 


[Vol. XV, 


PAGE. 
209 
210 
210 
210 
210 
215 
215 
217 
217 
217 
217 
217 


222 
222 
222 


Rear of Shelter Tent with Excess of Cover weighted down with a Stone 222 
Interior Sleeping Arrangements in Travois Shelter Tent . 


Diagrammatic Sketch showing Dog dragging Tent Poles lashed in ee 


Fork of the Travois . 


Three Travois set up to form a Tent tS 


A Buffalo Paunch filled with Water, tied with a Tucked Thong, sade 


skewered with a Stick 


Diagram to show how a Bull-Boat was once te a Dew aT yale 
Dog carrying a Bull-Boat as a Travois Load 
Type of Unornamented Moccasin worn on the Hunt in Winter 


Moccasin Pattern 


Coat worn by eo ucshacsrar siete ‘the Hun Atons 3 : 
A Rocky Mountain Sheepskin Dress decorated with Elkteeth | 


223 


226 
226 


226 
231 
231 
233 
233 
233 
233 


Sketch of a Buffalo Robe to show Notches cut out at Shoulder to make it 


more Symmetrical 


Front and Rear Views to show Proper Method of Weannra a Buffalo Robe 234 
How Meat was carried into Camp on the Hunter’s Back . : 


Moving Camp: the Order of March 


Sketch of Exposed Buffalo Breast to show her Blood for ‘Broth was 


obtained. 
Sketch of a Buffalo Ranney 


Bag made from part of Paunch snd filled with Blood 


Sketch of Buffalo Intestines 
Assisting a Dog to swim a Creek . 
Travois stacked for the Night. 


Construction of Bed used in Tent on the Hine : 


The Skin Tent .. . 
Position of the Beds ath es Tent 
The Meat Drying Stage . 


A Green Hide temporarily folded beter Pleshing 
Method of Fastening Meat to Thong of Green Hide for Ereuanorcatae 


How the Tie shown in Fig. 80 is made 


e 


. 


234 


236 
236 


238 
238 
238 
238 
241 
242 
242 
242 
242 
245 
247 
247 
247 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 139 


PAGE. 
82. Two Pieces of Meat tied together for prone peuen pias i : . 247 
83. The Meat Pile and its Contents. aes 250 
84. Buffalo-bird-woman and her Husband paddling one Bull- nat “ie pte 
another loaded with Meat and Skins . . . .. s+, . 254 
85. Wading into the River to Load a Bull-Boat Re ie a Aa) “Saar tate ODA 
86. Bull-Boat Paddles decorated with Honor Marks : Tp ae Oa, 
87. Sketch Map of Camp on a Sandbar where Goodbird was Bari : 265 
88. Method of driving Stakes into the Ground to hold the Anchor Rope of a 
Peal. ; : : : : rears. 
89. Roasting Buffalo Thigh Fonae Gatore ‘hie Pipi Fire ; ; : ; 207 
90. Making Fire with a Wooden Drill. ... 267 
91. a, Goodbird’s Wrapping, as a Baby, on the Murch: oe the Tie ie the 
oem winame tne Baby Bundle .. 92 0 0°.) Bh i 267 
92. Construction of a Buffalo Skin Corn Mortar . . . .. . Rear 4! 
93. How a Pestle was carried on a Dog Travois st ie eaey-7a) 
94. Removing the Hair from a Buffalo Hide to make a Can Mortar Tin Pa 
95. Construction and Tie for a Buffalo Skin Bag . . . . .. . 277i 
96. Construction of a Double Bag used for Shelled Corn . 273 
97. Making a Buffalo Calfskin Bag: A, B, skinning; C, inflating; D, drying 
E, the completed bag : : 4 ; ; 273 
98. Travois, with Bull-Boat, Hoe, and Ax tied to Tic heya Cee 7 ee ee 
99. Diagram of Horse Travois. 3 : ; ; ; : spheres} 
100. Travois Thong Tie . ‘ Ceti : Neale ee et 
101. Travois Thong Tie as made when eaeed. was Maat a : irae to 
102. Method of lashing Bull-Boat toa Horse Travois . : : ; : NR ry 
103. Form of Old Type of Bull-Boat . 3 : Sarna t 
104. A Saddle with Two Double Bags filled with Prayisions one on It ed 
105. Arrangement of Bags and Tent Poles for Transportation . ; ARTEL br f 
106. Methods of folding a Tent Cover in Preparation for loading . . . 279 
107. A Tent Cover tied ready for Loading .. Palette eee 
108. Method of Loading and Tying Tent Cover on a aan ; ; 280 
109. Sketch of Horse and Two Riders to show Robe tied over Legs an Two : 
Boys in Winter . . 280 
110. Sketch of Horse and Two Bigars to nae Pasion of Tears in Baines . , 280 
111. A Dog Travois . : ; : : oh fins Sere! BOG 
112. Cross-section of Por euciion of Pad on Don Treas ; : 7 a eee 
113. Position of Straps, Breast Band, etc., when Travois is not in Use ; . 282 
114. Buffalo Shoulder Bone used in Skin Dressing ai ARATh Eee ies Goat, Bees 
115. The Hidatsa Dog. : ‘ . : , . 286 
116. Travois Harness properly Seiad on a Dae : : . 286 
117. Diagram of a Bull-Boat lying Mouth down over the Teavaid Pole ze 286 
118. Method of fastening a Bull-Boattoa Horse Travois . . .~ . . 286 
119. Buffalo-bird-woman riding on a Travois_. 287 
120. Buffalo-bird-woman riding a Horse with her Babe Packed isis her 
Belted Robe... ; : MOOR ia kihrs pine ti cok ote cs My ee 
121.. The Mandan Tipi .. de Oa ad Roe Na cies Siye” sae Ae oi as eee OU) 


122. Groundplan of Tent used on Tribal Hane Pe aright Na amr he A aah rN 


140 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


PAGE. 
123. Diagram showing Method of bunching Bull-Boats to prevent their over- 
turning ina Strong Current . 5 296 
124. Diagram showing the Order of Bull- Boats as they flosted soon flies 
Missouri. 5 . 296 
125. Flies-low in a Bull- Boat horas phe Tatant Godd bint in a tara 5 ln Lane 
126. The Tent used during Wolf-chief’s Hunt. : MERI Sire 5, 


127. An Improvised Cap worn as Protection against Sha a eae anes 


HORSE CULTURE. 
(Narrative of Wolf-chief) 


Wolf-chief, an Hidatsa full-blood, was born about 1849. Conse- 
quently, his experience with horses would date from about 1860. The 
following information was given by him in August, 1913, and supple- 
mented in August, 1918. 


ORIGIN. 


I know no tradition, or story, telling how we Hidatsa first got horses. 
Since all our old stories tell only of dogs being used as beasts of burden, 
I think we must have gotten our first horses rather recently. In the old 
tales my father used to tell me about our tribe, he always spoke of the use 
of dogs in transporting the household goods, whenever the Hidatsa went 
to hunt in the Bad Lands, or moved to the winter village. He never men- 
tioned the use of horses. 

One of these stories told of a buffalo hunt up the Little Missouri 
River, at the time the Hidatsa lived: at Five Villages, at the mouth of 
the Knife River. On this hunt they killed a great many buffalo, dried the 
meat, and brought it home on travois dragged by dogs. ‘“‘Had we no 
horses then?’’ I asked my father. ‘I never heard that we had,” he 
answered. 

So far as I know, the Mandan also had no horses until about a hun- 
dred yearsago.! There isa tale of a hunt made by the Mandan when they 
_ lived near Bird-beak Hill, which bears out this statement. They hunted 
toward the south where they found a large herd of buffalo, and this they 
surrounded, both men and women. They held the windward side of the 
circle open until all the buffalo were within, and then closed it. Then the 
hunters went inside the circle and shot the buffaloes with arrows. The 
meat was carried home by dogs. If they had had horses at the time, they 
would not have surrounded the buffalo herd in this way and would not 
have brought all the meat home on dogs. 

Another time, I have heard, the Mandan hunted to the north. They 
killed some buffaloes, but there was no timber near by from which to 
build drying stages. The women cut the meat into long, thin sheets, not 


1The only positive early historical data that have come to our notice for horses among the Village 
tribes are certain statements of La Verendrye and his sons. They seem to have first visited these villages 
in 1738, but make no mention 4 horses there, stating, however, that the tribes living to the immediate 
south had horses. Yet, in 1741 they seem to have found horses in possession of the Village tribes, 
Later, J. McDonnell (1793) reports that all the villages were using horses. See this series, vol. 17, part 1, 
and the American Anthropologist, N. S., vol. 16, 1-25. 

The zoology of the Indian horse has not been studied, nor do we find good technical descriptions in 
the early literature. The best early drawings of horses are by Bodmer, who accompanied Maximilian in 
1833-1834, but even these seem conventional. 

The Editor is responsible for all unsigned footnotes in this paper. 


141 


142 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


unlike blankets. These were thrown around the bare shoulders and back 
of the son-in-law of the family and he stood in the sun all day to dry the 
meat. As his back was turned to the sun, his breast and thighs were in 
the shade, so the sinews from the buffalo’s back were tied about him to 
hang from his thighs and across his chest. In this way the meat and 
sinews were dried by evening. The dried meat was carried home on the 
backs of the men and women in bundles about two feet thick by three 
feet long. This also seems to be proof that the Mandan did not have 
horses; if they had had them, they would have brought the meat home on 
the horses’ backs. 

My father also told me this story :— 

Two birds were once transformed into men. They were born as babes in a 
Hidatsa village and grew up there. One was named Méhai’tiac, or Big-spring, and 
the other, Tsakaka-i’tfac, or Big-bird. As the two men, although in human form, were 
really birds, they had great supernatural power. 

Once the two bird men went with a war party to thé south with some Assiniboin, 
who were then our friends. ‘They came to some enemies. One of the Assiniboin also 
possessed great mystery power and he and the two bird men worked against these 
enemies. They fought those enemies, who were in a big village, and killed many. 
Those who were not slain sprang into the Missouri River. The three mystery men 
returned victorious with the rest of the party. It was about the time of this incident, 
I think, that the Hidatsa obtained their first pony. I think they got it from the 
western Cheyenne, whom we called the ‘Spotted Arrow Feathers.’ 

My father also told me that the Assiniboin and some other tribes 
considered their horses sacred, praying to them and singing sacred horse 
songs to them. Since we Hidatsa did not follow these Assiniboin customs, 
he was of the opinion that our horses must have come from some other 
tribe. Had we obtained them from the Assiniboin, we too would have 
considered them sacred and sung sacred horse songs to them as they did. 

Our winter counts do not tell us when we first obtained horses; but 
I think it was not quite three hundred years ago. After we got, as I be- 
lieve, the first Cheyenne pony, our horses increased and many came to 


be owned in our tribe. 


IDEAS CONCERNING HORSES. 


When I was somewhat past ten years of age, my father took me 
with him to watch the horses out on the prairie. We watered the herd 
and about the middle of the day came home for dinner. In the after- 
noon we again took the herd out to graze. There were many enemies 
around at the time and we had to guard our horses closely. 

While we sat watching the herd my father said: ‘‘These horses are 
gods, or mystery beings. They have supernatural power. If one cares 


Er 
“6L8T Ul OSETIA VsyVpIy YL “LT “Sy 











1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 145 


for them properly and seeks good grazing and water for them, they will 
increase rapidly. Iam sure, my son, that if you will remember my words 
and observe them when you are older, your horses will increase and all 
will know that you are a good raiser of horses. Other tribes also observe 
these things, and are known to be good raisers of horses. 

I have said that these horses are gods; for they have minds and 
understand. I once had a stallion and did not guard him as I should, so 
he wandered away to another herd of horses. Even then I did not go to 
get him, but let him go as if I did not care. One night I dreamed that the 
stallion stood before me. ‘You did not care for me as you should have 
done,’ he said. ‘You would not give me good water and grass, so I went 
to another country to look for mares.’ Not long after that, some enemies 
came and stole that stallion from me. So the dream came true. He 
went to another country and I lost him. Ever since that time I have 
taken good care of my horses.” 


THE Cort. 


In preparation for the birth of a colt, a pint or two of dried dung of 
antelope, elk, or jack-rabbit was gathered and kept in readiness to rub 
over the colt’s body as soon as it was born. This was to absorb the gum- 
my moisture with which the colt’s body was covered at birth and to dry 
its coat. The dung of jack-rabbit, antelope, or elk was used because 
these are all speedy animals, and so would cause the colt to grow up to 
be speedy like them, valuable for racing and hunting. 

When a colt is born, the mare should bite off the umbilical from ihe 
afterbirth. Goodbird says he knew a mare that bit the umbilical too 
close, and her colt died. The dung was always rubbed over the colt after 
the umbilical had been bitten off. Then the owner of the colt broke off 
the soft yellow pads from the bottoms of the colt’s hoofs; with his thumb 
and forefinger he pressed the soft, inside part of the hoof along the edge to 
make it symmetrical and even. 

Although I myself have never seen it done, I have heard that in the 
old days, when the birth of a colt was expected, everyone went off and 
left the mare to herself, as it was said that the birth was thus made 
easier. After the colt was born, the owner led the mare and her colt 
outside the village and picketed her there. For the first ten days the colt 
was carefully guarded lest it be attacked by wolves, or be injured by the 
other horses; after that, it was turned out with the herd. I have heard 
of colts being born within the earth-lodge, but I never witnessed this 
myself. My father told me that a colt was once born in his earth-lodge, 


146 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


but I never heard of this happening elsewhere in the village, at least in my 
lifetime. 

The boys of the household had a strange use for the first dung 
dropped by a colt. It made an excellent yellow arrow paint. We boys 
rubbed it on our arrowshafts, or sometimes took it home and rubbed it 
on our play sticks, for the game of wmakihéké. This quality of the colt’s 
dung continued for the first two or three times a colt dunged. As I recol- 
lect it, we picked the dung up in the morning and evening. It was a 
small, gummy mass, about the size of one’s thumb. We used it wet; 
or if it was dry, we spat on it and rubbed the moistened part on the 
arrowshaft. 


CASTRATION.! 


A stallion colt born in May was sometimes castrated the next fall, 
or when about five months old; but generally castration was postponed 
until the colt was two years old. It might take place even later, as five, 
six, or seven years after birth. Two years, however, was the more usual 
age for castrating horses. 

Certain men who knew the art were called in to perform the eastra- 
tion for a castrator must first have bought the art from someone who 
owned it. A castrator’s fee consisted of ten objects; three of these were 
essential, while the rest might be chosen by the owner of the colt. The 
three essential objects, a knife, a rawhide rope, and the tanned skin from 
a buffalo’s belly worked with porcupine quills or painted with white clay, 
were symbolic of the castrator’s calling. The tanned buffalo skin was 





1Castration naturally raises the question as to European influence. It can be assumed that the idea 
and the technique were taken over from the European colonists along with many other aspects of horse 
culture. Yet, the castration of dogs is reported as a fixed custom among the Northern Plains tribes, as if 
it were aboriginal. Maximilian (Travels in the Interior of North America, Vol. 2, 175) is responsible for 
the statement that buffalo calves were castrated and turned loose so as to ‘provide superior meat animals. 
If this be correct, then the weight of evidence for the prehistoric existence of the technique i is increased. 
However, as the case stands, we cannot be sure that the idea of castration did not come in with the horse 
ae net by suggestion, was applied to dogs. The probabilities, at least, favor the European origin of 
the idea. 

On the other hand, it appears in the Plains early, since in the time of Lewis and Clark the custom 
seems to have been known to all the Indians, for when among the Chopunnish we read: ‘we have found 
our stonehorses [stallions] so troublesome that we indeavoured to exchange them with the Chopunnish 
for mears or gel[d]ings but they will not excha[n]ge altho’ we offer 2 for one, we came to a resolution to 
castrate them and began the operation this evening one of the indians present offered his services on this 
occasion. he cut them without tying the string of the stone as is usual, and assures us that they will do 
much better in that way; he takes care to scrape the string very clean and to seperate it from all the 
adhering veigns before he cutsit. we shall have an opportunity of judging whether this is a method pre- 
ferable to that commonly practiced as Drewyer has gelded two in the usual way.’ 

‘«. . several of the horses which were gelded yesterday are much swolen particularly those cut by 
Drewyer, the others bled most but appear much better today than the others.” (89. 

. . . our horses are all recovering & I have no hesitation in declareing that I believe that the 
Indian method of guilding [is] preferable to that piageers by ourselves.’’ (103) (See Original Journals 
of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, vol. 5, New York, 1905.) 

While these are the only cases’ of castration we fees noted, it is plain from the text that geldings 
were obtained from the Indians on the Missouri. Turning now to the technique of the operation, it 
eh ae that the Chopunnish Indian referred to above, did not follow the precise method described by 
our informant. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 147 


used as a saddle blanket; the rawhide rope was to lead the horse; and 
the knife was employed in the operation. 

The castrator always kept on hand sinews from the back of a jack- 
rabbit, an antelope, or an elk, which he used for making the necessary 
ties. We believed that according to the sinews used to tie the wounds 
of the castrated horse, so would he afterwards exhibit the peculiarities 
of speed of the animal furnishing the sinews. Thus, the jack-rabbit runs 
with great speed, but stops every now and then; the antelope runs 
rapidly but soon becomes winded; the elk has both speed and endurance. 

In old times I knew a man named Big-black-spot, who castrated 
horses. I will tell you how I saw him castrate a colt of mine. I had two 
colts, about two years old, which I wanted to become race horses. I 
tried them both, and found that one showed very good speed and bottom. 
I asked my father’s opinion. ‘‘The second colt,” he said, ‘‘ will make a 
speedy horse, but he should be castrated to make him faster.” 

There was another reason why I thought the colt should be castrated. 
In the spring, when the snow is soft and the ground muddy and slippery, 
horses, especially stallions, tire very quickly. A stallion, no matter what 
his condition, whether plump or lean of flesh, was apt to give out soon 
and show weariness. A castrated horse did not tire so easily. 

I sought out Big-black-spot in his lodge. ‘‘I want you to castrate 
one of my horses,” I told him. He agreed. ‘‘I did so to a stallion for 
another man a little while ago, and I still have some of the necessary 
materials,” he said. ‘‘What do you ask for pay?’”’ I asked him. “TI 
must ask for a knife, a tanned buffalo-belly skin, and a rawhide rope,” 
he answered. ‘‘I also expect seven other articles as you may choose to 
give me.” “J have them all ready, now,” I said. ‘‘Then let us take the 
colt out of the village,’’ said Big-black-spot. 

He got his materials and we led the colt out of the village. A friend 
of mine, Lean-bull, helped. We put a rope over the colt’s neck and drew 
it around his hind legs. A second rope was fastened about his forelegs, 
and the colt was thrown. 

Big-black-spot drove a stake into the ground with an ax, and bound 
the colt’s forelegs and one hind leg to it. The left hind leg was fastened 
to the rope around the colt’s neck, Fig. 2. Around the colt’s scrotum, 
above the testicles, was firmly tied a bowstring, the free end of which 
was carried back and attached to the tail. This was to prevent the colt 
from drawing up his testicles. Then Big-black-spot anointed the colt’s 
scrotum and adjacent parts with some medicine he had brought with him 
in a pan, saying, as he did so, ‘‘Let this make your body good and 


148 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


strong.’ This medicine we called atudéédé. It is a bulbous root from the 
Rocky Mountains, not unlike a prairie turnip, but larger. It was scraped 
fine and powdered and mixed with water. Before applying the ointment 
it was warmed over a fire built near by. After using the ointment, Big- 
black-spot rubbed the same parts with wild sage. 

_Big-black-spot now showed me three kinds of sinew; the shortest 
piece, about seven inches long, was from a jack-rabbit; the second, fifteen 
inches long, and white, from an antelope; the third, two and a half feet 





Fig. 2. A Colt tied for Castration. 


long, from an elk. They were all taken from the back of the animal, 
like the sinew we take from an ox. Big-black-spot asked me to choose 
which sinew I wanted for tying. ‘‘If I use the jack-rabbit sinew,” he 
said, ‘your horse will run as swiftly as a jack-rabbit, but will stop when 
you are not expecting it; if I use antelope sinew, your horse will run 
swiftly, but will not be able to keep his pace for a long time; if I use elk 
sinew, your horse will not run as rapidly, but will have more strength and 
endurance.” Ichose the elk sinew. 

Big-black-spot picked up the sinew and his knife and proceeded. 
He made a horizontal incision quite around the middle of the scrotum; 
he removed the outer skin of the lower half of the scrotum and cast it off. 
This exposed the two testicle sacks. He cut the tendon, or muscle, that 
united the two testicle sacks and made a vertical incision in each sack, 
on one side only; he now drew the testiele through this incision, letting 
the empty testicle sack slip up under the upper half of the scrotum. He 
pushed the stump of the scrotum well up, drew down the two testicles, 
and after tying the elk sinew tightly about the tissues from which each 
testicle hung, he cut off both testicles with his knife. The elk sinew he | 
used had been prepared and twisted like a bowstring. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 149 


Big-black-spot now dipped his bunch of wild sage into the medicine 
again and brushed the parts about the wound saying, ‘‘I want you to 
make your body good so that your wound will heal quickly. I want you 
to grow and spring up like these plants. I hope Wolf-chief will have good 
luck with this horse this year.” 

Big-black-spot untied the colt and he got up. He faced the colt 
west, and threw the severed testicles in the same direction, and said, 
‘Lead your horse in a short circle around these testicles, and return to 
the place where the horse is now standing.” I did so, moving in a sunwise 
eircle. Big-black-spot then continued: “Take these severed testicles 
and throw them into the Missouri River. Water your horse at the river 
this evening and again in the morning; but watch him carefully for four 
days, and do not let him enter the water, where he will sink up to his 
wound. After the fourth night (i.e., day) let him enter the water so 
that any corrupt matter may be washed away. After the fourth night, 
also, you may turn him loose to graze; after ten nights, you may ride 
him a little; after fifteen nights, the horse will be well again, and you 
may let him run as he wills.”’ 

He castrated the colt in May. The operation took about two hours, 
from nine in the morning until eleven. I paid Big-black-spot moccasins, 
calico, a dish, and other things, besides the three essential articles for his 
work. The first four days after he was castrated, I let the colt run loose 
outside the village, but watched him constantly. When he recovered 
from his wound, I rode him as Big-black-spot said. I rode him in a 
race and he went very fast. In the autumn I rode him in battle and 
pursued the enemy, riding up close to them. They shot at me, and my 
horse was shot through the lungs and killed. Thus it seems, the prayers 
of Big-black-spot were not strong. 


STALLIONS. 


The best stallion was kept for breeding. Stallions were not all alike; 
some gave more attention to mares than others. This we thought a sign 
of vigor. Then, too, we observed that some stallions produced no colts. 

My grandfather, Big-cloud, had a fine stallion named Amant’kac, 
or Digs-out-dirt, because he always pawed up the dirt with his hoofs 
when he came to a herd. He was often threatening to the boy herders, 
putting his ears far back on his head and looking savage, but he never 
really bit or harmed them. He was a good stallion, forcing his atten- 
tions, in spite of avoidance and kicks. He raised blue colts. 

This stallion visited other herds, but Big-cloud never charged any- 
thing for his use, since it was not customary. When one owned no stal- 


A RIE ALLE IAS LALA IDA AA 


150 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


lion, he simply asked permission of the owner of a good stallion, to drive 
the latter into his herd. I do not think a man owning a stallion ever 
borrowed one from another. 

Stallions that grew to be two years old and were slow and lazy, were 
castrated; also those from which no colts were born. After he was 
eight or ten years old, a stallion would lose his vigor; he was then cas- 
trated. Such a castrated horse was strong and good for hunting or riding 
any time of the year. Mares bred to stallions in the spring. A stallion 
stopped breeding about the first of August. Some colts were born in 
May, some in June, and a few in July. Gestation lasted one year. 

When a mare was bred to a stallion we could not predict what color 
the colt would be. Sometimes the colt followed the color of the stallion, 
sometimes of the mare. 

Usually a mare bred to a stallion about the last of April or in May. 
The mares were allowed to run with the herd. In our family herd were 
three mares and one stallion. During the breeding season we let the 
stallion run for a week or two with the rest of the herd. Nearly every 
man who owned horses kept a stallion. 

After a mare was bred to a stallion and she was seen to be gravid, 
her owner was careful, when riding her, to sit well forward; and he was 
especially careful to see that she was never ridden double. A mare 
ridden double, or with the rider seated too far back, would be likely to 
cast her colt before its time. For the same reason, a gravid mare was 
never struck on the back with a whip. An unborn colt lies with its head 
close to the mare’s backbone, and there was danger of the whip striking 
the head and injuring it. 

If a gravid mare developed an irritable disposition, trying to bite the 
other horses, we said, ‘‘ That mare carries a stallion colt.’’? But if the mare 
continued gentle, we thought it a sign that she carried a mare colt. Iia 
gravid mare was afraid to go on slippery places and hesitated to go on 
ice, we thought it a sign that her colt would be a mare; but if she was 
bold, fearing neither ice nor slippery ground, we thought she would bear a 
stallion colt. 

A mare bred in May should bear a colt the next May. 


TRAINING. 


A colt was broken at two years of age, for a three-year-old is nearly 
grown, and is then hard to break. Yearlings were sometimes broken, 
but were apt to develop lameness, or grew knock-kneed from the weight 
of the boys riding them. The joints of a yearling’s legs are still soft. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 151 


Colts were broken by boys fourteen to seventeen years of age; but boys 
as young as eleven helped. As I have often broken colts, I will tell my 
own experience. 

Several of us drove a herd down by the Missouri at a place where 
the current was rather swift, and so likely to prevent a swimming colt 
from getting back to shore too easily. I roped a two-year-old and drove 
him into deep water; swimming out to the colt, I mounted him and made 
_ him swim with me on his back. Now a two-year-old still suckles his 
\ mare, and frightened at my weight, the colt tried to make shore, where he 
knew his mare was. I clung to his back, forcing him to swim until, 
_ reaching shallow water, his feet touched ground, when he soon struggled 
to land. By this time I had dismounted. Following the colt, I drove 
_ him again into deep water and repeated the lesson; and so for two or 
three hours, until the colt was weary. The last time the colt came out, I 
stayed on his back. 

Only one boy mounted a swimming colt, for under the weight of two 
a colt would sink. A horse drowns more easily thana man. ‘If a horse 
sinks until water runs into his ears, he grows weak,”’ we Indians say. 

As the colt reached shore the last time, another boy mounted behind 
me; and together we rode the poor beast back and forth over the low- 
lying sandbank covered with soft mud. There are many such sandbanks 
along the Missouri; a slight rise in the river covers them with several 
inches of soft mud. We rode the colt over such ground until it was 
utterly exhausted. 

Had we tried to mount him when he: was fresh, the colt would are 
bucked and very likely given usa fall. However, in the soft mud or in the 
sand we were not likely to be hurt even if we were thrown off; certainly, a 
fall here would not be as dangerous as on hard ground. It was usual for 
two boys to ride the colt we were breaking, as the animal was thus more 
rapidly exhausted. We always rode bareback when breaking a colt. 

We continued these two or three-hour lessons for three successive 
days, after which we considered the colt broken; it was now usually safe 
to mount and ride him on land. 

To Swim. A colt was also taught to swim the Missouri. To train 
my colt, I needed the help of two other boys. One of these swam ahead 
with a lariat, one end of which was bound about the colt’s head like a 
halter (to have fastened the lariat like a bridle about the colt’s lower 
jaw would have been dangerous, as likely to have let water run down 
his throat). I followed, swimming on the downstream side of the colt, 
guiding him, and clinging with one hand to hismane. A third boy swam 


152 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


at the colt’s tail, but not. grasping it; now and then he scratched the 
colt’s ham or leg to frighten him and make him swim ahead, or struck the 
colt.on the back above the tail crying, “‘yih-hah!” 

The water covers a swimming horse only a few inches and his back is 
visible from above. The horse works his legs as in walking and breathes 
through his nostrils, with a prolonged snorting sound, made by blowing 
water from them. 

There was need to train our ponies to take the river readily. One 
might be out with a war party fleeing from enemies. In such times he 
needed a pony trained to swim for he might have to escape across the 
Missouri. Then, too, we needed well-trained ponies to pursue our 
enemies. We were much troubled by our foes when I was a boy, especi- 
ally by the southern Sioux. Our village stood on the north bank of the 
Missouri at Like-a-fishhook bend. The river here was rather narrow and in 
summer parties of Sioux sometimes approached the south side of the 
river, and running out on a sand bank there, shot across into the village. 
More often they hid in the woods that skirted the river, especially at 
early morn or evening, waiting for some woman or child to come down to 
the watering place, or to bathe. The Sioux would then rush out from 
their hiding place and shoot across at the bather. 

The sight of enemies on the other side of the Missouri was always a 
signal for our brave young men to seize their horses, gallop to the river, 
and plunge in and swim across in pursuit; but unless a pony had been 
trained to it, he was likely to refuse to breast the swift current. With 
their well-trained ponies our young men were able to cross quickly. 

For War. I did not begin to train ponies for war until I was sixteen 
years old. A boy of fourteen we thought old enough to strike an enemy; 
and some boys at this age began to train and manage war ponies. A boy 
as young as eleven might help break colts, but his legs were not strong 
enough for him to keep his seat on an untrained pony. A sixteen year 
old boy should be stout of legs and able to stick on a pony’s back and 
manage and train him for war. 

A war pony was trained to dance, as we called it. I took my pre- 
viously broken two-year-old, mounted, and kicking him with my heels 
and drawing in my breath with a whistling sound through nearly closed 
lips, signaled him to go; but while doing thus, I also drew on my reins, 
jerking them repeatedly, as if to stop my pony. Not liking this, he tried 
to break away, but I checked him each time with the reins, and even 
struck him, not very severely, on breast and fore legs, with my quirt. 
All this made the colt leap and prance about from side to side, his fore 
legs moving together, but his hind legs moving alternately. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 153 


Again, drawing my breath with whistling sound and kicking my 
colt with my heels, I now and then drew on my reins steadily, but not 
jerking them. This made the colt rear straight up on his hind legs. 
Sometimes a rider, making his pony rear thus, slid down his horse’s 
back, unable to keep his seat. 

I gave my colt several such lessons, in the morning and again in the 
evening. After two days, the pony had learned what was wanted of him. 
| Every war pony was taught to dance. In battle, unless a pony was 
constantly moving, he drew the enemy’s fire upon horse and rider alike. 
A standing pony made an easy mark. A pony trained to dance and 
prance was much less likely to be shot. 

Parading. On quiet evenings in summer, a young man painted and 
dressed in his best, often mounted his trained pony and paraded through 
the village, making the pony dance as he went. Usually just one young 
man paraded, not several in a company; his purpose was to be admired 
by the village maidens. He wanted them to see what a fine figure he cut 
on his war pony. Or, sometimes a brave warrior, one esteemed by every 
one and who had won honor marks, would parade on his pony. The 
warrior did so without weapons. 

Sometimes, when parading, the rider halted his pony and thrust the 
toe of one foot under the fore leg of his steed between its leg and body; 
at the signal, the pony lifted his leg and pawed the ground. The rider 
then did likewise with his other foot, making the pony paw with his 
other fore leg. This the pony had also been taught when he was trained 
to dance. 

To Turn and Stop. A war or hunting pony should be trained to 
turn at the shifting of his rider’s weight to either side.1_ Thus, I mounted 
my pony, and urging him at full speed, fell over on his right side, throw- 
ing my left leg over his back and holding to his mane with my left hand, 
or throwing my left arm over his neck. At the same time I pulled on his 
right rein, causing the pony to turn to the right in the arc of a cirele. Or, 
if I dropped on the left side, I threw my right leg over the pony’s back. 
Thus exercised, he learned to turn always toward the side on which he 
felt the weight of my body. 

In time, a pony came to obey the movement of his rider’s body very 
_ readily, quite without the use of the reins, whether ridden saddled or bare- 
back. This training was of great use in hunting and war. We hunted 
buffaloes with bows and arrows when I was young; powder was costly 


1¥or training of horses to run buffalo, see Boller, Henry A., Among the Indians. Hight Years in the 
Far West; 1858-1866. Embracing Sketches of M ontana and Salt Lake (Philadelphia, 1868), 233-235. 


154 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


and was saved for war. A hunter, unless left-handed, overtaking a 
buffalo, approached from the right of the animal. Running then on the 
right, and a little back of the buffalo, the hunter leaned over to the left 
with bow ready and arrow on string. A well trained pony, feeling the 
weight of his rider’s body on his left, turned in close to the buffalo, thus 
giving the hunter a good shot; and being thus trained, the pony did not 
shy off or show fear, as he otherwise would, at approaching the buffalo.’ 

Likewise, if in battle I approached the enemy and they began to 
shoot at me, I could drop, let us say, on the right side of my pony, cling- 
ing, as explained, with my left leg over his back. Feeling my shifting 
weight, the pony would swerve around toward the right, exposing his 
left side to the enemy and shielding my body with his own; and in like 


manner, if I dropped on his left side, the pony would swerve toward the — 


left. I once saved my life thus shielding my body behind my pony; 
he was killed, but [escaped unhurt. 

We also trained our ponies to stop short, even if going at high 
speed.? For this purpose I laid a blanket or other object on the ground, 
galloped up to it, and drawing sharply on the reins brought my colt to a 
fullstop. A pony was usually intelligent and soon learned to stop short, 
even when going at full speed; but a rider had to look sharp that he be 
not thrown from his horse’s back. 

Such training was very necessary, for in places like the Bad Lands 
one might come unexpectedly upon chasm or ravine, and must stop 
abruptly or risk a bad fall. A pony’s natural bent was to try to leap a 
chasm even if the distance was an impossible one. 

To Leap an Enemy. Another thing a war pony, indeed almost every 
horse, was taught to do, was to leap an enemy. I made a small pile of 
sunflower stalks or cornstalks, or brush, or almost anything, and covered 
the pile with a blanket, usually the blue cloth kind we wore. I mounted 
my colt and made him gallop up to the blanket and leap over it. At 
first he would be afraid and would try to go around the pile; but at last 
he leapt over the blanket. A day’s lessons were enough to break a pony 
to do this. 

Let us suppose I was in battle and an enemy fell. If near, I would 
try to ride up and strike coup on the body. But unless my pony were 


1Peter Pond, 1740-1745, reported that the Yankton-Dakota had numerous horses:— 
“Thay Have a Grate Number of Horses and Dogs which Carres there Bageag when they Move from 
Plase to Plase. . . They Run down the Buffelow with thare Horses and Kill as Much Meat as they 


Please. In Order to have thare Horseis Long Winded they Slit thair Noses up to the Grissel of thare ~ 


head which Make them Breath Verey freely. I Have Sean them Run with those of Natrall Nostrals and 

Cum in na oper! Not the Least Out of Breath.’’ (Collections of the State Historical Society of Wis- 

consin, vol. 18, : 
2For skill in handling horses, see Boller, zbid., 64. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 155 


trained, he would be almost sure to'swerve. A trained pony leaped over 
the fallen enemy, giving me opportunity to strike coup. 


Even if a warrior did not actually strike his fallen foe, if he made his 
pony vault over the body, it counted a coup, first, second, third or fourth, 
exactly as if the coup were made by striking with a hand weapon. 


SUMMER PASTURING AND HERDING. 


Horses were driven to pasture in summer, usually about three miles 
from the village. Every family herd had its herder, usually a boy; and 
many of the horses were kept hobbled. In more recent years, ponies 
were often picketed. A short pin of ash wood was driven into the 
ground; to it was tied a lariat which was fastened about the horse’s neck. 
In earlier days we never fastened a pony by rope or halter about his neck, 
fearing he might strangle himself. 


There was always danger in summer that enemies might be lurking 
about. In the mornings especially, we feared attack, for a raiding party 
commonly spent the night in camp, making ready to strike at daybreak. 
For this reason we guarded our herds rather closely in the morning, but 
toward the latter part of the afternoon we felt it safe to drive them further 
out from the village. 


Once when I was about eleven years old—it was the year following 
our camp at Buck-brush Eagle-pit—we thought no enemies were about, 
and late in the afternoon drove our horses six miles from the village for 
better pasture. Suddenly, enemies appeared and drove off about a 
hundred of our horses. We had thought it too late in the day to expect an 
attack, and our guards, perhaps, had grown a bit careless. 


We had often to battle with enemies when I was a young man. 
During my lifetime, we Hidatsa, I think, have killed about two hundred 
enemies, as nearly as I can count. Enemies were far more likely to 
trouble us in summer than in winter. Still, even in winter, we had to 
guard our herds. Six times, within my memory, raiding parties came 
against us in winter and succeeded in driving off some of our horses. 
We pursued and killed some of these raiding enemies. 


It was the duty of the boys of the household to herd the horses when 
they were grazing on the prairie or in the hills. We lads, as we guarded 
the herds, often hunted gophers or blackbirds, which we cooked at a fire’ 
and ate. Sometimes we played the arrow-shooting game, two boys shoot- 
ing against two others, or just one against another. The wager was often 
a bird or a gopher. 


156 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


We drove the horses to the Missouri to water them. We patted and 
stroked the colts as they drank so as to accustom them to being handled. 
They soon grew so tame that we could catch them in the prairie or the 
hills without trouble. ; 

The Missouri is a deep stream, and is not very shallow usually, even 
near the shore. A young colt was helpless in water shallow enough for a 
man to stand upright. We lads took advantage of this fact. If a colt 
was a bit wild, we drove him into deeper water where a lad waded out to 
him and caught him; for, not being able to touch bottom, the colt could 
not escape. We then petted and stroked and rubbed the colt, so that he 
soon became gentle and let himself be caught whenever we wished. 

Corral under the Drying Stage. It was our custom to drive the family 
herd in from the hills to the corral in the earth-lodge every night. If a 
man had more than five horses, there was not room in his lodge for all of 
them. During war, however, he kept them all in his lodge, putting up a 
second, or war corral, in the lodge to the left of the door as one enters. 
To accommodate a larger herd a corral was usually made underneath the 
drying stage which stood in front of the earth-lodge. The drying stage 
had a floor supported on posts, a little higher than a man’s head. These 
posts we surrounded with triple railings of poles, running quite around 
the stage. A pole or rail ran from the front to the middle post, where it 
was joined to a second one which reached to the rear post. The rails 
which ran the width of the stage only, in front or rear, were single poles. 
‘The rails on the sides of the posts ran outside of the posts; but the front 
and rear rails ran on the inside of the posts, and rested upon the side rails 
I count as “‘front”’ the end of the stage in which was placed the gate. 

The front rails were used as the gate and were let down and tied up 
again with a rawhide rope. All rails were bound in place with rawhide 
thong. A notch was cut on either side of the posts of the stage, within 
and without. Where it lay against the post and received the rope, the 
rail itself was also notched. The rope was bound around both rail and 
post. The lowermost railing lay about two feet from the ground; the 
second, about three feet; the uppermost, about four feet from the 
ground. 

A gentle horse might be tied to one of the front posts, by one foot, 
with a rope or thong about four feet long. If all the horses were quite 
gentle, one might be tied to each post in this manner. A colt could be 
put with the other horses into the drying stage corral, which could receive 
horses up to the number of about twenty. In front of my father’s earth- 
lodge we always had a drying stage and corral, but we kept our best 
horses, especially our best mares, in the corral inside the earth-lodge. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 157 


In the early morning, we threw cornhusks from our breakfast into 
the corral for the horses to eat, or else brought grass for them. They 
were not taken out on the prairie until about ten o’clock in the morning, 
as many families in the village might still be asleep; and anyway, it was 
rather quiet in the village during the breakfast hour. If at this hour an 
alarm were raised that enemies were stealing our horses, we could not 
expect as quick and vigorous a pursuit as would be the case later in the 
day. 

Sometimes horses were hobbled in the timber about sunset and left 
for the night; for enemies were not likely to find them, hidden as they 
were in the trees. A stallion was never hobbled and left in the woods for 
the night, for he would struggle and fight to get away; or he would 
whinny and call to the mares so that any enemy who happened to be 
within hearing could discover where he was. 


When we drove the family herd in at evening, only our two fast 
horses, Deer-horse and White-belly, and three mares were usually 
brought into the lodge; if, however, enemies were about, we sometimes 
brought the whole herd in, the five horses named going into the regular 
corral, and the others into the war corral to the right of the door as one 
leaves the lodge. Our mares were valuable for breeding and we did not 
want enemies to steal them. 

Sometimes, if enemies were known to be about, a man of the house- 
hold would make his bed out on the drying stage floor and stay there all 
night, watching the horses and singing. He sang so that the enemy would 
know he was guarding his horses. 

A Typical Summer Day’s Herding by Boys. I will now describe a 
typical day’s herding by boys. Let us suppose that I was about fourteen 
or fifteen years of age, and that the time of year was about the present 
date (August 8). I recollect very well what occurred one particular day 
about this time of the year and will tell about it. 

I arose after the sun was up, probably about eight or nine o’clock. 
Often, though not always, I went for a morning bath in the Missouri. 
In that case I proceeded to the river in moccasins, breechclout, and robe. 
While I bathed, I drank great quantities of the river water. When I 
was through bathing, I drew on my robe, and now that the water had 
settled well in my stomach, I vomited it up in order to wash my stomach 
clean. To do this, I stooped, and pressed my hands over my stomach, 
at the same time retching. The water came up from my stomach 
rather thick. It was the thick moistures I wanted to cast forth, and I felt 


158 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


good after doing so.! Sometimes after bathing in the river, I rubbed my 
body with white clay. This made my body feel light. I let my hair hang 
loose, as it was wet from the bath in the river. 

I returned home and put on my leggings and my shirt of white sheet- 
ing. Although I did not always wear my leggings during the night, I 





Fig.5 





Fig. 3. A food-filled Heart Skin tied to the Belt with String. 
Fig. 4. Method of tying a Halter. 
Fig. 5. Carrying a Package of Maize Ears tied to the Elbow. 


had slept in both leggings and shirt the previous night, but had taken 
. them off to go to the bath. If I slept without my leggings, I always laid 
them beside my bed in readiness for the morning. 


1Among all the Plains tribes bathing was a daily custom for the young and middle-aged. Even in 
winter a hole was broken in the ice and a plunge taken. Old men were appointed to see that boys took 
their baths regularly. However, the practice of the narrator in purging himself, has not heretofore come 
to our notice, except as an occasional feature of the preparation for a ceremony. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 159 


The rest of the family had eaten their morning meal while I was at 
the river. My mother gave me my breakfast when I came in. In a 
wooden bowl she had put boiled dried meat and a mess of parched corn- 
-meal boiled with dried squash. She had parched the corn in a frying pan 
until brown, stirring it with a stick to keep from burning. She pounded 
the parched grain to meal in a wooden mortar. When she had brought 
the squash to a boil, she added the meal. To eat the mess, I probably had 
a buffalo horn spoon. Sometimes I ate with a mussel shell, or even with 
one of the big spoons made of a Rocky Mountain sheep horn. The 
broth in which the dried meat had been boiled, was served in a tin cup for 
a hot drink, as we now serve coffee. 

Breakfast eaten, my father said to me: ‘It is time for you to take 
out the horses. Keep careful watch in the hills. If you sight any stran- 
gers who look like enemies, hasten back to the village. Leave your lariat 
on the neck of your saddle horse and let it drag, so that if an enemy 
appears, you can quickly catch your horse.” 

My mother handed me my midday lunch, a double handful of whole 
parched corn, mixed with minced pieces of dried kidney fats. It was tied. 
up in a heart skin which I fastened by a string to my belt over my left 
hip (Fig. 3). I also picked out four long ears of white corn from the 
harvest of the previous year and tied them up, in a piece of cloth. Around 
this bundle I passed a piece of thong, tied the ends in a loop, passed my 
left arm through the loop, and so carried the bundle slung on my left 
elbow (Fig. 5). 

I caught one of the mares in the corral, and put on her a halter made 
of a flat rawhide lariat (Fig. 4). .“‘ That is right,’’ said my father. “Drive 
the horses to the river and let age swim to cool off their bodies, that ey 
may better enjoy their grazing.” 

About sunrise, and before he had eaten his breakfast, my father had 
driven the two best horses and the three mares of our herd to the corral 
under the corn stage; for all five horses had been stabled for the night 
in the corral in the lodge. Our stallion had been kept in the corn stage 
corral all night; and as no mares were then there, he had kept quiet. ; 

The regular place for the corral in the earth-lodge was to the left of 
the entrance; but in time of war, when there was danger of enemies 
entering the village, a second corral was made to the right of the door, 
using ‘“‘left”’ and “‘right”’ in the Indian sense, as of one standing at the 
- fireplace and facing the door. This second corral was fenced off against 
the fire screen (Fig. 6). In the diagram I have indicated the places for 
the gates. The crosses mark where we fed dried grass to the horses. As 


160 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


will be noted, the grass was fed in the rear of one corral and along the 


front of the second. 
When it was necessary, as in war times, to take the whole herd into 


the lodge, the stallion was tied by one fore foot to the post marked p in 


Place where 
Corral ‘posts 
were kept eae 





Fig. 6. Diagram of Interior of Earth-Lodge, showing Position of Corrals. The 
Corral on the left is the War Corral. p, Post where Stallion was tied; X—X, the 


points where grass was fed to the horses. 


the diagram (Fig. 6). This was one of the exterior supporting posts, and 
stood between the fire screen and the door. Mares were distributed in- 
differently in either corral. 

In our family, it was the custom to keep the four or five posts of the 
war corral standing, fork upward, outside the lodge and on the left of the 
door as marked in the diagram (Fig. 6). Lengthwise on the ground 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 161 


beside these posts were laid the corral rails. We preserved these posts 
and rails even in peace times, for they were hard to get. We had to go 
two miles up the Missouri to cut them, and return in a boat, floating the 
rails in the current. : 

We considered the war corral as an emergency corral, to be put up 
only in times of extreme danger. When the danger was past the corral 
was taken down, and the floor was swept with native brooms of buck 





Fig. 7. A Bow Case and Quiver in one Piece, showing Method of Carrying; 
also a Willow Quirt with Rawhide Lashes. 

Fig. 8. Arrows. A, with iron head and prairie-chicken feathers; B, pointed 
wooden shafts and duck or owl feathers; co, blunt-headed, with duck or owl feathers. 

Fig. 9. Guiding’a Horse with a Halter to the end of which is tied a Buckskin 
Lash. 


Fig. 10. Riding Horses. Two views of a warrior leaning over the side of his 
horse, to keep out of sight of the enemy. 


brush. For that matter, every morning the corrals inside the lodge were 
swept with these brooms by the women of the household. The dung and 
other refuse were borne in skin baskets to the Missouri and pitched over 
the bank. . 

Having haltered one of the mares, as already described, I unbound 
the thongs that fastened the gate rails, and leaving these on the ground, 
I let the horses out of the corn stage corral. I mounted the haltered mare 
and drove the herd to the river. Now that the corn stage corral was 
empty, my mother cleaned it up as she had already done with the corral 


162 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


inside the lodge. We always kept the ground neat and clean about our 
lodge. 

As I started off on my mare my father said, “If you meet enemies 
while you are guarding your horses, try to escape and return home. If 
you cannot escape, stand against them like a man and make good use of 
your arrows!”’ 

I had an unbacked, self bow of chokecherry eet and a quiver of 
arrows which IJ carried on my back. The bow case and quiver were in one 
piece (Fig. 7). Of the three kinds of arrows in my quiver, five or six had 
iron heads and were feathered with prairie-chicken feathers (Fig. 8a); 
two were blunt-headed (Fig. 8c); and seven or eight were pointed wooden 
shafts, like Fig. 8b. The last two kinds were feathered with duck or owl 
feathers. 

The blunt-headed arrows were for birds; those with iron heads for 
enemies; and those of pointed wood (Fig. 8b) for gophers and small game. 
With these last we also played arrow games. The pointed wooden 
arrows were prepared by shaving the end of the shaft to a point, oiling 
it with grease, and holding it over a fire of coals to harden it. The other 
arrows were not treated in this way. The blunt-headed arrows were of 
chokecherry wood; the others were of juneberry shoots. Juneberry wood 
is dense and heavy, while chokecherry wood is lighter and better suited 
for the rather clumsy blunt-headed shafts. A dense, heavy wood would 
have made these arrows too heavy. 

For shooting at birds we also used another kind of arrow that had 


thorns bound to the side of the shaft near the point. I did not take any 


of this kind with me this day because they were not much used out on the 
prairie, their chief use being for shooting through a flock of birds, or at 
a bird up in a tree. Besides to have carried thorn arrows in my quiver 
would have injured the feathers of my other arrows, for the thorns would 
have torn the plumes as I drew them from the quiver. 

My father was an arrow maker, and had made all my arrows for me. 


They were therefore quite handsome. They were feathered with plumes 


from the wing of an owl, a prairie-chicken, or a duck. ‘These arrows, 
feathered with prairie chicken-feathers, are the best,’’ my father said to 
me. “They will fly swiftly.”’ He feathered the five or six iron-headed 
‘arrows with prairie-chicken feathers, three plumes to a shaft. The other 
arrows were irregularly feathered. Some had all three plumes of owl or 
duck feathers, others had some duck and some owl feathers. 

My bow was thrust into the quiver with the loose loop of the ne 
string hanging out, asin Fig. 7. In battle the quiver was turned so that 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 163 


the arrows were in front, though sometimes the quiver was tied to the 
belt. 

I also carried an unpainted willow quirt, sometimes in my hand, 
sometimes thrust in my belt. It bore two lashes of rawhide. I never 
whipped my horse with it. My father once had a vision; he gave me this 
quirt to carry as a sacred object, because of what he had seen in the 
vision. ‘‘Carry this quirt, my son,’ he said, ‘‘and keep it asa sacred 
object. I will give you a whip song to sing to it. When you are alone, cry 
and pray to it; and you may then expect to strike an enemy with it 
some day.”’ Goodbird has drawn this quirt as I have described it to him 
(Fig. 7). | 

__ If I were attacked by enemies, however, and were in danger of cap- 
ture, I should have whipped my horse with the quirt. I should have 
expected the quirt to have supernatural power that would cause my horse 
to run swiftly. My idea would have been that since the quirt was a 
sacred object, seen by my father in a vision, it had sacred power which I 
would have invoked in this way. 

As shown in Fig. 7, I wore my hair loose. I did not wear a braided 
scalplock. When an enemy fell, the first man to strike coup on his body 
cut out the crown; and the others who also struck coup would in a twink- 
ling strip the whole skull of the scalp. We banged the front of our hair 
and combed it back. The hair was cut short below each ear. That on the 
back of the head was let grow, and was sometimes tied in a bunch, or 
knot, much as white women do. In olden times, Hidatsa women did not 
braid their hair as they do now, but made a knot of it over the forehead. 

Well, as I have said, I drove the herd down to the river, at a place 
west of the village. After the horses had drunk their fill, I foreed them 
into the water and made them swim or wade to their full depth.!. Then I 
dismounted, let my mare drink, and drove her into the water; and hold- 
ing her by the lariat, I made her wade almost beyond her depth. 

At the end of the lariat I had made a hole in which I had tied a piece 
of soft buckskin for a lash (Fig. 9). This lariat end I used as a whip, 
giving it a jerking throw so that it made a cracking noise. I think it was 
very much as you describe the white man’s custom of cracking a black- 
snake whip. As will be noted in Fig. 9, the index finger is extended its 
entire length down the lariat; this was always done when one threw the 
whip (or lariat end) to make it crack. 





i“. . Droves of horses cover the prairie, slowly driven towards the river; when they approach, 
the bathers leave the water, and their places are quickly filled by the restless, half-wild horses, who, 
urged by the yells and cries of their drivers, rush pell-mellin. After drinking and swimming about, they 
scramble out, and forcing their way through the incoming droves, quickly rejoin their companions. 
When each band is collected again, they are driven up to their owner’s lodge, and secured for the night.”’ 
Boller, ibid., 61. 


164 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


The halter shown in Fig. 9 (and which is the same as that in Fig. 5) 
we call dpa-pthé, from dpa, nose, and apihé, something hanging. Such a 
halter was used for short home journeys, such as passing to and from 
pasture, to the river to water, and the like. 

All twelve horses in our family herd were Indian ponies. The mare 
I rode was a dark bay with a white spot. Another, called Deer-horse, 
was a dark bay; a third, White-tail, was a grey. A good many of the 
herd were red, or bay; some had white hind legs, and as I have described 
elsewhere, one had a white belly. | 

It was not hard to guide the mare with a single rein and noose over 
the nose as shown in Fig. 9. If the rein was drawn to the right, the pony 
understood and followed; if drawn to the left, the pony obeyed. As may 
be seen in Fig. 9, the lariat fell to the right of the horse. A well-trained 
pony could be guided merely by putting a noose over the neck and draw- 
ing the lariat to right or left. A third way to guide a horse was, as else- 
where described, by throwing the weight of the rider’s body to right or 
left. The horse, if well trained, would understand and obey. 

Especially in battle, a warrior would often throw himself down on 
one side of his pony, when at once the animal would swerve toward the side 
on which the man clung. A warrior dropped on the right or left side of 
his pony indifferently. A man unable to do so, but who, for want of 
training, sat straight on his pony, would soon be shot in battle. When a 
warrior dropped on the side of his pony, all that could be seen of him 
from the opposite side was one leg and part of his thigh. 

It was not our custom to use a saddle in battle, because it would then 
have been impossible to drop on the side of the pony.! Goodbird has 
drawn two views of a warrior dropping on the side of his horse (Fig. 10). 
In Fig. 10a, the warrior is seen from the rear as he drops down on the 
side of his pony, and the animal is swerving to the right. Fig. 10b is a 
side. view; in this case, the enemy on the left can see only the man’s 
left leg, his thigh, and a little bit of his belt. When a rider dropped on the 
side of his horse, he held on chiefly by the inside of his thigh. It was much 
easier to stick on a pony when the pony’s body was sweaty. It will be 





1Maximilian visited a Hidatsa village November 26, 1833 and remarks that ‘‘The scenes which are 
Seepage from the dwellings of the Indians soon appeared ;. slender young man, galloping without 
saddle . ” (Maximilian, 2bid., vol. 3, 24.) 

* Several tall, athletic men were on horseback, and managed their horses, which were fright- 
ened by ‘the noise of the steam-boats, with an ease which afforded us pleasure. Urging them with their 
short whips in the manner of the Cossacks, with the bridle fastened to the lower jaw, they, at length 
pushed the light, spirited animals through the willow thicket, till they reached the river, where these fine 
bold horsemen, resembling the Circassians, with their red-painted countenances were regarded with 
great admiration. Many of them wore the large valuable necklace, made of long bears’ claws, and their 
handsomely-painted buffalo robe was fastened round the waist by a girdle. In general they had no 
stirrups, but sat very firmly on the naked backs of the horses, and several rode on a saddle resembling 
the Hungarian saddle.”’ (Maximilian, zbid., vol. 1, 360.) 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 165 


noted that the warrior’s hair is tied in a knot just back of his forehead. 
The horse’s tail is also knotted. In the knot in his hair the warrior 
fastened his individual sacred charm, or medicine, which he carried with 
him into battle. Only a few tied their hair in this manner, men who had 
been so directed in a vision, or who for some other good reason, thought. 
it necessary to do so. 

When going into battle, a warrior stripped off his leggings and 
sometimes, but not always, his shirt. I recollect that a warrior once 
threw himself on the side of his horse with his shield hanging from his 
back, but swinging forward so that it could be seen. The enemy shot at 
him and he was hit in the right foot on the far side of his horse. This is 
represented in Fig. 10b. The man was afterwards called Shot-foot: 

A man unaccustomed to riding horseback, and sitting on a pony for 
the first time, will very likely have the skin fretted off the end of his 
spine. To such a novice, riding a single mile will-be enough to do this. 
But we Indians did not sit squarely nor heavily on our horses. We pressed 
the thighs against the horse’s sides. When the horse sweated, it was easy 
to stick to his sides when riding bareback, as in battle. 

After watering the horses at the river, I drove them about a mile 
from the village, where I found some of my boy friends, who had 
- reached the grazing grounds before me. They were Iduhic, or Stands- 
up, seventeen years old, and Idocic, or Garter-snake, sixteen years old. 
As nearly as I can recollect, I was nearly or quite fifteen years old at the 
time. My two friends were hunting buffalo birds, or cow birds, among 
the horses. These birds are dark brown or black. 

After driving my horses into the grazing herd, I dismounted and 
hobbled my mare, leaving the long lariat on her neck with the end trail- 
ing on the ground. I found the two boys had already killed three birds, 
which they had laid beside their two little bundles of parched corn 
brought for their lunch. ‘Have you shot some birds already?” I asked. 
“Yes,” they answered, ‘‘but they are getting scarce now, for we have 
frightened them.”’ We find it hard to get near any now.” 

As I talked to the boys, I looked about me. In all directions, within 
a radius of a quarter or half mile, were scattered herds of horses, grazing. 
Boys were herding most of them, but in the distance I saw one man guard- 
ing a herd. I added my horses to those of my two friends. One of these 
had five horses, the other, about ten; so we noe about twenty-seven in 
the herd we were guarding. 

We now started to hunt gophers. With some hair that I pulled from 
the mane of my mare, I made a snare and tied it to the end of my lariat. 


166 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


I set the noose in a gopher’s hole. Soon the gopher thrust out his head 
and I drew the noose taut. The little animal tried to get back into his 
hole, but I hurried up to it, holding on to the lariat and passing it through 
my hands, hand over hand. When I reached the hole I drew the gopher 
out ¢nd with a quick swing of the noose, dashed it against the ground, 
killing it. This had to be done quickly, for a gopher can bite. In this 
manner we caught about eight gophers, which we took to the place where 
we had left our lunch. 


“Tt is now noon,” said Stands-up. “I will go to the village and bring 
some fire.””?’ He ran off afoot. Meanwhile we other two boys went down 
into the timber, a quarter of a mile away, and brought some dry wood for 
fuel. ° 


We were first to return, but Stands-up soon joined us bringing some 
coals of fire in a pail. We built a fire by placing the coals on the ground 
and laying little sticks on them, blowing the coals with our mouths. We 
added larger sticks and soon had a good fire. First we roasted the birds. 
A sharpened stick was thrust into the flesh at the vent and I held the 
bird over the fire with this stick, until it was roasted. The entrails were 
not drawn, neither were the feathers plucked. 


When roasted, I broke the bird open and threw the entrails away. 
I plucked out the wing feathers and stumps of the smaller feathers with 
my fingers and threw them away also. I ate the bird, biting the flesh off 
with my teeth; I did not pull it off with my fingers. We ate none of the 
corn with the roasted. birds at this time. Of course, each of the other 
boys as well as myself, roasted and ate a bird. 


Then we roasted gophers. First we opened the gophers and drew 
out the entrails with our fingers. The lips of the opening made in the 
careass of the gopher for the purpose of removing the entrails, were now 
skewered together by a spit thrust in near the tail. Fig. 14 will show how 
the belly of the gopher was skewered shut. The careass was held in the 
fire until the hair was singed, when it was taken out and seraped with a 
stick to remove the charred hair. It was then held about five inches from 
the fire, being turned now with one side, now with the other, toward the 
fire. The spit was held in the hand. 


Each boy roasted the gopher he ate. In all we ate five gophers, 
dividing them between us equally. We left three gophers unroasted; 
but before the fire died down, we singed the hair of these three and put 
the carcasses away with the corn we had brought for lunch, covering 
both gophers and corn with a blanket. 


1924.] . : Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 167 


We buried the fire, digging a shallow hole and raking the coals into it. 
We covered the coals with dried horse dung, and put earth over this. 
We knew the fire would smoulder beneath until we wanted it again. 

We noticed now that some of the herders were driving their horses 
to water, so we knew it was time for us to do likewise. I caught and un- 
hobbled my grey mare; for when I began to snare gophers, I had taken 
the lariat off her neck. 


Fig 3 





Circumference of gophers den. 
Fig. 11 





Fig. 11. A Snare set in a Gopher Hole. 

Fig. 12. A Stick with a Snare bound to it set in a Gopher Hole. 

Fig. 13. Noose tied in a Lariat for a Gopher Snare. - 

Fig. 14. Sketch of a Gopher with Skewer thrust through it, preparatory to 
Roasting over a Fire. 


There was a pond not far away, but the water was not good to drink, 
as there were little worms in it. We watered our horses at the Missouri, 
and we ourselves drank freely and also bathed. Meanwhile we had tied 
our riding horses each to a good big stone, usually about a foot thick, 
giving the lariat a'turn or two about it. 


> 


168 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


After our bath, we got our riding horses and went up the bank to 
find the rest of the herd already half way back to the grazing grounds. 
They were going along at a leisurely pace, stopping now and then to 
graze. We caught up to them and drove them to our camp again. Here 
I hobbled my mare, letting the lariat drag. 

We now ate our parched corn. We opened the fire, and found the 
coals still glowing. We added fuel and roasted the three gophers we had 
saved, each boy eating one. The gophers were fat and made us feel good. 
I also parched two of the ears of corn I had brought. I made a little bed 
of coals, laid the ears of corn upon it, and rolled them about with a stick, 
until they were parched brown. I liked corn parched in this way. The 
two ears I had not used, I kept to take back home with me. ‘‘ These are 
fine ears,’ I thought. ‘‘I chose them because they were the most select 
and I may want them again.” 

After our meal we began again to catch gophers; but as we had been 
hunting them all morning, they had become frightened and were slow to 
show themselves. ‘I know how to catch these gophers,” said Garter- 
snake at last. ‘Once before when I was hunting them, they became 
frightened and did not show themselves, and we poured water down their 
holes. This made them come up.” 

“You go to the village and bring us a pail,” said Stands-up and 
Garter-snake to me. I ran off to the village and soon returned with the 
pail. We also had the small one in which we had brought the fire. We 
filled the two pails at the pond and brought them to a gopher hole. We 
dug out the top of the hole with a knife to a depth of about seven inches - 
and a diameter of five inches. This was to make a kind of funnel into 
which to pour the water. Garter-snake emptied one pail, I the second. 
We each stood ready with a stick. The gopher came up, ran back, came 
up again, ran back, then came up a third time; the fourth time, Garter- 
snake killed it with his stick. We found two gophers in this hole and 
killed them both. As they were dripping wet, we laid them in the sun 
near our fireplace to dry. 

‘“‘Let us now shoot at a mark,” said Stands-up. He took one of his 
wooden pointed arrows, thrust it by the feathered end into the ground, 
and upon the point stuck a small-ball of horse dung. We went about 
thirty yards away. ‘Let us shoot two arrows each,” said Stands-up. 
“Whoever hits the ball of dung shall have the two gophers we drowned 
out of the hole.” 

‘You shoot first,” said Garter-snake tome. I shot my arrows quite 
close to the mark. Garter-snake and Stands-up shot, neither hitting the 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 169 


mark. The second round, Garter-snake shot first, Stands-up shot second, 
and I third. We used only sharp wooden arrows. As soon as one shot, he 
ran and picked up his arrow. 

The third round, Garter-snake shot first, hitting the ball of dung the 
first time. ‘‘ There,” he cried, ‘‘I eat the two gophers.’’ He disemboweled 
them and made ready to roast them. ‘‘ Now,” he said, “‘I will give you 
two boys one of the gophers to divide between you. But while I am 
roasting them, see if you cannot catch another, and I will have my share 
of it.’”’ 

“‘Agreed,”’ I cried. Stands-up and I filled the two pails at the pond, 
and listening a few moments, heard w-s-s-s-s! the hissing bark of a gopher. 
We looked and spied the gopher; he dived into his hole. 

“Tt may not be a deep hole,” said Stands-up, as he emptied the 
smaller of the pails which he held. The gopher did not come up. Stands- 
up filled the hole with water from the larger pail and as the gopher 
dashed out, he killed it with a blow of his bow. Drowned from their 
holes, gophers were easy to kill as they came up with their eyes shut, no 
doubt on account of the water. 

I took the dead gopher to Garter-snake. ‘‘Here is the gopher you 
wanted,” I said. ‘‘Good,”’ he answered. ‘‘ Now you roast it.’’ I did so, 
and said, ‘“‘ We agreed to divide this gopher, but I think it would be better 
if we shot again for it.” ‘‘Agreed,”’ said Garter-snake. ‘‘ Whoever 
shoots the farthest, shall eat this gopher.” ‘Then I shall eatit,’”’ laughed 
Stands-up, as he shot. I followed, but my arrow failed to fly as far as his. 

Garter-snake took up his bow. “I am sorry,’ he said, ‘‘that your 
arrows did not go farther. Now watch me!” He had a sinew backed 
bow. He put an arrow on the string, drew it, and though he aimed at a 
rather low angle, his arrow went farthest of the three. We had shot 
with wooden pointed arrows (Fig. 8b). 

“Now,” said Garter-snake, “this is my gopher; but I am going to 
divide it with you, only I will take the chest, the best part. You boys 
may eat the back part (sic). I don’t like it anyway.” We divided the 
gopher, Garter-snake eating the fore quarters, and Stands-up and myself 
the hind quarters. 

It was now about three o’clock in the afternoon. 

We again hunted gophers, but in another way. We set snares in the 
holes, but anchored them to sticks thrust in the holes while we went to 
play. The noose we used for a set snare was somewhat different from that 
which we fastened on the end of a lariat. The latter was a simple noose, 
like Fig. 18. The noose of a set snare was like Fig. 114; it had a tighter 


170 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


eye, with a small sinew binding that would not slip back. When a gopher 
came out and found its head caught, it dived back into the hole, pulling 
tight both the main and the secondary noose, or eye, enclosed by the 
sinew binding. This kept the bigger noose from slipping open and the 
gopher could not therefore get away. The stick with the snare bound to 
it was set at one side of the hole, partly closing it (Fig. 12). 

Another kind of snare was made of a bowstring. The noose end of 
the bowstring was laid in the hole. When the gopher was caught it was 
pulled out with the bow instead of a lariat. 

As I have said, we three boys set snares in the gopher holes and went 
off to play. First we shot at a stick, or at an arrow stuck URREHPs in the 
ground. This was a kind of gambling game. 

Other boys who had been herding their horses some digs ae away 
now came up, and we had a sham battle on horseback. We used round- 
headed, or blunt, arrows (Fig. 8c). In the group were about ten boys, all 
of about the same age as my companions and I. Butterfly and Finger- 
nail, I remember, were two of the boys. 

We practised fancy riding. One boy would ride along, dismount, 
and mount again, at a gallop. Another boy stood with his bow ready; 
a second boy galloped up near him, dropped on the farther side of his 
horse and swerved past, while the boy with the bow shot at the rider’s 
horse. 

Sometimes I galloped up to a boy, hidden behind my horse with only 
my leg exposed over the pony’s back. The boy could see nothing but this 
exposed leg as I approached him. I struck him as I would an enemy; 
but as I galloped away, he shot at me as he was now able to see my body. 
Of course, as I galloped away, my horse turned, exposing my body to the 
other boy’s arrow. 

The easiest way to mount a horse is to put the left elbow forward 
over the back of the horse, seize the horse’s mane with the right hand, 
and leap up, lying on the abdomen transversely over the horse’s back; 
then throw the left leg over and rise to a sitting position. In battle we 
could not be so deliberate as we ran the risk of being shot at by the enemy. 
We boys therefore practised leaping from our ponies and mounting them 
again at a gallop. Seizing the mane with the right hand, one leaped from 
the right foot, with the left foot lifted high, and vaulted on the horse’s 
back at one bound. 

Then we played that I was thrown from my horse, or that my horse 
had been killed; and another boy rode forward to save me, carrying me 
off on his pony with him. The rescuer stopped his pony; I ran forward, 


1924. ] | Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 171 


placed both hands on the horse’s hips and leaped up behind the other, 
very much as white children play leap-frog. Being trained to this, the 
horse did not kick. 

Once in a battle, when I was about twenty-five years of age, Two- 
bulls’ horse was killed by a shot in the head. Two-bulls leaped to the 
ground and ran. Our enemies numbered about nine hundred and ninety- 
five (sic.) We were but thirty. One of our men, Bears-in-water, was 
riding away, but at sight of Two-bulls’ plight, reined in his horse and 
looked back. Two-bulis understood; he ran forward, put his hands on 
the hips of Bears-in-water’s horse, leaped to the pony’s back, and both 
he and Two-bulls galloped off in safety. All these games were intended 
as preparation for battle, for all the boys expected to go to war as they 
grew older. In these pony games I always rode my old grey mare. 

We next practised archery for a long while, using our bows again as 
we thought we would in battle. We put a stick in the ground and shot 
at it, just to see who was the best shot; or, we took turns, each boy run- 
ning forward, stopping suddenly, and shooting instantly. Very often a 
boy dashed past the mark, shooting at it as he ran. Sometimes the boys 
shot at one another, being careful, however, not to shoot hard. The boy 
who was the target tried to dodge the arrow, springing to right or left, or 
dropping suddenly, so that the arrow passed by or over him. Only 
blunt arrows were used, at a distance of twenty or thirty yards. We 
practised dodging arrows, because we expected to have to do so in war. 
This story will illustrate the value of expertness in such play :— 

A man named Wolf-grass was going along afoot when he was 
attacked by an unmounted enemy, who wore a handsome costume and 
war-bonnet. This enemy shot again and again, but Wolf-grass put his 
robe over his left arm, and with his eyes just over the edge of the robe, 
dodged his enemy’s arrows every time. His enemy advanced rapidly, 
and when close, sent a final arrow that lodged in Wolf-grass’s robe. Wolf- 
grass struck him with his bow. Other Hidatsa came up and killed that 
enemy; and in a twinkling had cut him to pieces and torn the fine cloth- 
ing from his body. | 

Of course, we guarded our horses all the time of our play, keeping our 
saddle horses close by and in readiness for any emergency. No matter 
what our play, we watched our herd and had our saddle horses ready. 

At about half past four, we went to look at our gopher snares. We 
had set six snares and found two gophers caught in them; these we took 
out. “I do not believe that we want to eat these gophers today,’ said 
Stands-up. “Who wants them?” ‘TI do,” I answered quickly, and picked 
them up. ; 


172 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


We now mounted our horses, drove the whole herd to the river and 
watered them. I cut out my bunch of horses from the herd, the other 
boys cut out theirs, and we all returned to the village, arriving a little © 
before sundown. 

I drove my horses to my father’s door, dismounted, and went in. 
My father was lying on his bed. ‘Are all the horses here?”’ he asked. 
‘““They are outside,’ I answered. ‘Good, I will attend to them,” he said. 

The other members of the family had already eaten their evening 
meal. I spread my blanket on the earth floor between the two forward 
main posts of the lodge and my mother brought me my supper in a 
wooden feast bowl, with a big Rocky Mountain sheep horn spoon to eat 
it with. The mess was hominy of pounded yellow corn, boiled with 
beans, and seasoned with spring salt-alkali salt, gathered from the edge 
of aspring. It was a dish that I liked. 

My father meanwhile brought his five best horses into the lodge for 
the night; the remaining seven he left without, in the corral under the 
drying stage. 


WINTER CARE OF HORSES. 


When I was eight years old, as nearly as I remember, we came from 
Like-a-fishhook village and wintered across from Independence in the 
timber we call Mactkakca-4maci-midac, or Buckbrush-pit-timber. The 
name comes from an old eagle pit that was about two miles from the 
place we chose for our winter camp. ! 

There is a tradition that some hunters found quantities of small 
eagle feathers caught in the buckbrush that stood there. The hunters 
did not know how the feathers came to be in the buckbrush, but they 
thought the feathers gave promise of good eagle hunting. They dug a 
pit and caught many eagles. Doubtless they put the pit on the west side 
of the hills that are there. One can see the place from the top of In- 
dependence hill, but I do not think anyone knows just the spot where the 
eagle pit lay, not now anyway. 





1John B. Dunbar in his account of the Pawnee writes:— 

‘“They went into winter quarters in some place where water, wood and unburnt grass in abundance 
for the horses were to be had. Here they remained till forage became scarce, when another place was 
sought. If grass could not be found in sufficient quantity, they cut cotton-wood trees, and subsisted the 
horses on the bark and tender twigs. The return to the villages did not take place till young grass was 
started in the spring.’’ (Magazine of American History, 1882, vol. 5, no. 5, 332.) 

‘““The Aricaras do not provide any better for their horses than the other nations of the Missouri. 
They cut down the cotton wood (Populus angulosa), and the horses feed on the bark and smaller 
branches. I have seen instances exhibiting proofs that these poor animals have eaten branches two 
inches in diameter.’’ Bradbury, John, Travels in the Interior of America in the Years 1809, 1810 and 1811 
(Liverpool, 1817), 165. 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. £73 
A man named Son-of-a-star was taken with smallpox this winter. 
He caught the disease from some Mandan, who were then wintering near 
~ what is now Fort Stevenson. ; 

The next winter we camped again at Buckbrush-pit Timber. Two 
sons of a man named Stone, an Arikara half-breed, were killed. With 
other young men, they were hunting, and their horses strayed. The two 
brothers and a third young man remained behind to search for the 
horses. They camped for the night. The next day, as they were com- 
ing home, enemies surprised the three men and killed them. 

I was ten years old the next winter, when we again wintered in 
Buckbrush-pit Timber. There were many buffaloes about; and when 
parties went out to hunt the herds, I used’to go along to help take care of 
the horses. When buffaloes were sighted, the hunters hastened on to 
give chase, leaving me to guard the pack horses. I rode one, driving the 
others before me. 

I wore, I remember, a cap of buffalo skin, with the fur in, and leg- 
gings. I did not wear a clout then; cloth for a breechclout was hard to 
get and a boy of my age did not wear a clout anyway. I was young and 
hardy and did not feel the cold; this, in spite of the fact that the weather 
was cold. | | 

Some of the young men wore no shirts when chasing the buffaloes. 
They had painted their bodies and the skin behind their ears, with white 
clay. They hunted with bows and arrows. A few, it is true, owned guns, 
but preferred to save their powder for fighting enemies. 

The next winter, for the fourth time, we camped at Buckbrush-pit 
Timber. I was eleven years old. Again there were many buffaloes for 
the hunting. Enemies stole horses from us this winter. We trailed them 
and slew one; the rest scattered and escaped to the north. 

At the time these enemies stole our horses, I remember my father’s 
family kept their horses in two places. The most valued horses, those 
that were our best and which we most often used, we kept in the lodge at 
night. Those less valued, and those which were rather wild, we left out 
in the hills, even at night; but some of these were kept hobbled. So also 
did other families. Now I will tell how the village herds were cared for 
in the winter camp, as I remember it from the time when I was eleven 
years of age, when we still went into winter camps; for later, when the 
buffaloes were killed off, we no longer followed our older tribal custom of 
going into winter camp each year. 

Winter Lodges and Drying Stages. Our winter camp was of earth- 
lodges, but these were smaller and less carefully built than were our sum- 


174. Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


mer lodges. As in our summer village, there was a drying stage before 
every door, but it was smaller; and as it was intended to last only for the 
winter, it was rather carelessly built. It was like the summer corn- 
drying stage, but rougher. There were six posts, three on a side, and 
poles projecting upward supported stringers on which meat was dried. 
The floor was roughly made of poles and slabs, but not neatly as in the 
case of the summer stage. 


A winter stage was not used for drying corn, of course, but for drying 
meat. Dried in the cold winter air, meat tasted differently from that 
dried in the summer sun, or in the smoke of a fire, and I liked it best. 
Meat hung on the winter stage, or anything laid on the stage floor, was 
out of reach of the dogs. 


It was upon the floor of the winter stage, out of reach of the dogs, 
that my mother used to toss buffalo bones, to await the time when they 
could be pounded up for boiling to make bone grease or marrow butter. 
My mother, I remember, gathered up the leg bones to pound separately ; 
for the bone grease so obtained was of a better kind, being yellow and 
never hardening. Bone grease from leg bones my mother called ‘‘foot- 
bone grease.”’ Bone grease from shoulder bones and backbones was 
harder. 


On the floor of the winter drying stage, also, were stored bundles of 
hay, or dried grass, for feeding the horses; but I will tell of that later. 


Number of Horses and Lodges. 1 do not know how many lodges 
were in the winter camp. I remember we camped this year in three 
separate places in the timber; guessing at it, I should say there were 
perhaps, from ten to twenty lodges in each of the three camping places. 
There were perhaps, and again I am guessing, about two hundred horses 
in the tribe,! all, or nearly all, ponies. I think every lodge owned some 
ponies, but the number varied in the families. 


Now all the best horses were kept in the family’s lodge at night; but 
‘at the utmost, not more than ten could be so housed in one lodge.? The 
less valuable part of the village herds was left out in the hills. As I 
recollect, there were more ponies left in the hills, than were driven into 
the lodges, at night. As in the summer lodge, the ponies were kept in a 
pen, or corral, in the lodge. 


ah . They have about 250 or 300 horses in their three villages . . ” (Maximilian, vol. 2, 370). 

2‘ Inside of the winter huts is a particular compartment, where the horses are put in the even- 
ing, and fed with maize. In the daytime they are driven into the prairie, and feed in the bushes, on 
the bark of poplars. There are, probably, above 300 horses in the two Mandan villages. . . ’’ (Maxi- 
milian, vol. 2, 272). 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 175 


Feeding Cottonwood Bark. We fed our more valuable lodge-kept 
horses the bark, tops, and small branches of cottonwood trees.! Such 
fodder we fed them every night when we could get it. I am speaking of 
course of our winter camp. 


On pleasant days the women of the household went out every after- 
noon about two o’clock for bark. They commonly cut down two or three 
small trees, of perhaps a foot in diameter. They cut the rough, outer 
bark from the trunks; stripped the green, inner bark off in pieces, many 
of them as long as my arm and as broad as my hand; and lopped off the 
tender tops and smaller branches. Both bark and branches the women 
bore to the lodge with their pack straps. They often made three or four 
trips before all the bark was brought in; and they were careful to strip 
the trunks thoroughly, for if they did not, any horses in the woods were 
sure to browse on the bark and branches of the felled trees and the 
women’s labor would be lost. 


As this was the fourth year we had wintered in Buckbrush-pit 
Timber, the cottonwoods were becoming pretty well cut off about our 
camping place, so that the women often had to go some distance to find 
suitable trees. Sometimes the man of the family went out to help, 
cutting down the trees and carrying home the heavier loads. 

Brought into the lodge, branches and bark were piled near the fire 
to thaw.? About sunset, they were piled under the corral railing for the 
ponies to eat. The horses ate chiefly at night, but some of the fodder was 
saved for the morning. 











1‘ . Drewyer arrived with the horses about the same time, the horses appeared much fatieged 
I directed some meal brands [bran] given them moisened with a little water but to my astonishment found 
that they would not eat it but prefered the bark of the cotton wood which forms the principall article of 
food usually given them by their Indian masters in the winter season; for this purpose they cause the 
tree to be felled by their women and the horses feed on the boughs and bark of their tender branches. 
the Indians in our neighbourhood are freequently pilfered of their horses by the Recares, Souixs and 
Assinniboins and therefore make it an invariable rule to put their horses in their lodges at night. in this 
situation the only food of the horse consists of a few sticks of the cottonwood from the size of a man’s 
finger to that of his arm. the Indians are invariably severe riders, and frequently have occasion for 
many days together through the whole course of the day to employ their horses in pursueing the Buffaloe 
or transporting meat to their vilages during which time they are seldom suffered to tast food; at night 
the Horse returned to his stall where his food is what seems to me a scanty allowance of wood. under 
these circumstances it would seem that their horses could not long exist or at least could not retain their 
flesh and strength, but the contrary is the fact, this valuable anamall under all those disadvantages is 
seldom seen meager or unfit for service.’’ (Lewis and Clark, Original Journals, vol. 1, 258-259). 

2Boller, ibid., gives us the following as to the winter care and feeding of horses:— 

‘“When they reach the lodges, the wood is thrown down and piled, the kettle put over the fire, and 
aon! ore tg again. Then the cottonwood bark is to bethawed, and peeled in thin strips to feed the 

orses;’’ (195). 

““When the snow lies deep on the ground, and enemies are less numerous, (from the fear of being 
easily tracked,) most of the horses are left out at night, and only brought up when wanted for hunting. 
If the grass is plenty, and they can get a fair allowance of cottonwood bark, they may be kept in good 
order all winter; but if hard hunted, and brought up every night, by the time spring comes they are so 
reduced that only the very best horses can then ‘catch’ buffalo. 

‘Cottonwood bark is very nourishing, and if judiciously fed, a horse will fatten on it. A tree is cut 
down, the tender boughs lopped off, and after warming it to take out the frost, the bark is peeled and 
torn into strips of various lengths, resembling pine shavings; the knots and rough pieces are carefully 
thrown away, and it is then ready for use.’’ (199). 


176 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.  [Vol. XV, 


I remember that the men of the household sometimes helped break 
the thawed bark into pieces about eight inches long which they piled 
with the branches under the railing for the ponies to eat. Sometimes, 
too, they helped strip off the bark from the larger limbs, after these had 
thawed. 

The horses stood facing the fire as they fed. Twigs and smaller 
branches they ate readily; but limbs as thick as my wrist, they stripped 
of bark with their teeth. For this reason, the twigs and branchlets 
had been cut off and were piled by themselves. The thicker limbs, thus 
freed of branches, were more easily stripped by the ponies’ teeth. 

This custom of feeding cottonwood bark in the lodge was true of our 
more valuable horses. The year of which I am telling, we had nine ponies in 
my father’s lodge. But this number might easily be broken. A sister or 
an aunt (either blood-related aunt or band aunt) might present valuables 
to the owner and receive a return gift of a pony. All the nine ponies of 
my father’s herd that he valued, he brought into the lodge to care for 
and feed; for my father was a provident man, and was wise enough 
to bring his horses into the lodge every night. 

We did not dare let our good horses stay out on the prairie at night, 
for enemies were frequently troublesome, and a foolish man might thus 
lose all his horses. Now we can turn our ponies out to pasture without 
fear of enemies; but it was not so in olden times. 

We fed our horses no other kind of bark than cottonwood. It fat- 
tened the horses. 

Feeding Dry Grass. I have said that the winter drying stage, used 
chiefly for curing meat, was a storage place for bundles of dry grass, or 
hay. On the stage in front of my father’s lodge, I remember, there were 
usually two or three of these big bundles, or bales, lying in one corner of 
the stage floor. A small log was laid over them to stay them in the wind. 

The women of a household would go out with iron hoes and clean 
away the snow from places where the grass grew thick, put it up into 
bales, and bring these in on the backs of ponies. Men often helped in this 
work. The grass sought was the prairie grass, not the red or river grasses. 

The women gathered the grass at intervals as it was convenient or 
as they had need. The gathered store would be exhausted say, in ten 
days, and three more bales would be gathered and brought in. No great 
store was kept on hand; just two or three bales, as I have said, would 
be seen on the stage. Laid on the stage floor, the grass was out of reach 
of the dogs, for our horses did not readily eat hay that had been trampled 
or which dogs had fouled or run over. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. Ware 


Dried grass or hay was not fed to horses regularly, only when the 
weather was stormy or at night when enemies were about. It was an 
emergency feed. 

We did not store cottonwood bark on the stage floor as we stored hay, 
for the bark would have frozen hard again even if thawed. 

The women of our lodge used to go to the coulées a mile and a half 
away for grass; they bore the bales home on their backs or the backs of 
horses. The bales were bound with rawhide ropes, of which we always had 
an abundance. 





Fig. 15. The Foundation for making a Bale of Grass. a—a’, a rawhide lariat; 
bed, three sticks laid across the lariat. 
Figs. 16-17. Obverse and Reverse of a Bale of Grass, showing Method of Tying. 


Three sticks, each about three feet in length, were laid on the ground, 
with a rawhide lariat beneath, as in Fig. 15. Grass was cut with a hoe 
and heaped on the sticks, 6, c, and d, for the bale. The ends a and a’ 
were drawn over the bale and under the lariat at 2 and x’, passed over 
the ends of the bale, drawn under the lariat on the other side, and finally 
fastened each to the opposite band. (See Figs. 16 and 17.) The bale 
_ when bound was about three feet long and nearly as thick. One such bale 
was a load for a woman; four bales were a load for a horse. 

When the bales were brought in, a man, or one of the women, 
ascended the stage by the notched-log ladder and the bales were passed 


178 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


up to her. Sometimes the bales were piled on the,floor unbound; at 
other times the bales were unbound and a log was laid over the hay for a 
weight. 

Feeding Hay and Bark. If we wanted to feed the horses both hay 
and bark, the hay was laid on the ground under the corral rail first and 
the bark laid on top of it. If our store of hay was scant, a bit only was — 
saved for morning feed, none being fed the horses in the evening. 

Winter Pasturing. Horses of little worth, and wild unbroken horses, 
were allowed to run on the prairie in winter, notwithstanding the risk 
that they might be stolen by enemies; but-even these horses were not 
wholly neglected. The owner would go out every day, separate his horses 
from the rest of the herd, and drive them to water. Once a day was 
enough in winter, as the horses ate snow. 

If a blizzard threatened, the owner sometimes went out and drove 
his horses into the woods. He would catch one of his pack horses, mount, 
and drive the others before him. It was not necessary to lasso the pack 
horse; the owner spoke to it, and being gentle and well trained, it stood — 
still, letting the man approach and mount. Even during a storm, the 
owner would go out, seek his horses, bunch them up, and water and care 
for them. ear 

If enemies were sighted, all the horses of the village were driven into 
the winter camp. A man might then stable his best horses in his earth- 
lodge, putting his less valuable ponies under the drying stage. I have 
told you how our horses were stabled under the summer corn stage. 

In winter, on a fair day when the weather was good, our hunting 
horses were usually driven to pasture out in the hills; but if it was sus- 
pected that enemies were about, as many of the horses as possible were 
kept all day in the village. 

Watering the Horses. In winter we watered our best horses twice, 
about noon and again before sundown. A spring was the best watering ~ 
place. Sometimes we watered horses at the river, but not nearly as often 
as at a spring. The horses drank a greater quantity at the spring, as 
spring water is not so cold.. The herders also preferred a spring because 
it did not freeze over in winter and was easy to keep open. They would 
deepen the runway for four or five feet into a shallow trench. This filled 
with water and the horses were led up to drink. 

For household use we did not often seek spring water; never, if we 
could get Missouri River water. Many of our villagers thought the Mis- 
sourl River water strengthened them and kept them in health. For . 
winter use our women fetched water from the river or brought in ice or 
snow in baskets, to melt. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 179 


Small-ankle’s Narrative. Now I will tell you how my father cared 
for his horses the winter we camped at Buckbrush-pit Timber. 

In the morning we arose before day and breakfasted about daybreak. 
For breakfast we ate boiled dried meat and drank the broth. We often 
dropped parched corn into the cup of hot broth to soften the grain and 
make it easier to eat. 

The horses were fed by the men almost as soon as the family were 
up. After breakfast, soon after sunrise, the horses that had been stabled 
in the lodge over night, were driven into the hills to pasture. This duty 
commonly fell to the young men and boys of a household, but in our 
lodge my father took it as his own task. 

He would drive our herd into the hills, perhaps three miles from 
eamp, and look about for a good place for pasture, kicking away the 
snow at places to see if the grass was thick and heavy. Finding a good 
place, he would kick the snow off the grass with his feet; and the horses 
would do likewise with their feet. My father would not hobble his — 
horses for fear they could not scrape away the snow with their hoofs. 

My father stayed out all morning with his horses. When they had 
grazed a while, he hunted around and if he found another place where the 
grass was good, he drove his horses there to graze. If left to themselves, 
the horses would not know where the thick grass could be found; and 
they would go on in the direction they were headed or drift with the 
wind. 

Thus my father. Boch the morning. After satisfying himself that all 
was well, he would come back to the lodge a little after the noon hour, 
leaving his horses at their grazing place, three miles away. Later, about 
two or three o’clock, he would send me out to take his place and watch 
the horses. . | 

In the afternoon my father would help his wives cut down a cottqn- 
wood tree and help them bring in the bark. Often he felled the tree and 
let the women Bee off the bark; this they did more exper tly than men, 
for it was women’s part to do ax labor. 

Meanwhile, as I watched the horses, I went around seeking good 
places for them to graze, and driving them thither. If while they grazed, 
I found nothing else to do, I would go around the little herd crying and 
weeping and praying to the horses: ‘‘ You are my gods. I take good care 
of you. I want to own many horses in my lifetime.’”” My father had 
taught me to do so, saying: “‘If you pray thus to your horses, you will 
never lack for a herd; you will have good luck and never be poor.” 
Sometimes as I cried and wept, real tears ran down my cheeks, and 


180 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


sometimes not. Whether other boys did this while herding their horses, 
I do not know. My father, however, taught me to pray to the horses. 


About sunset I drove our horses home, arriving a little after the sun 
had set. I would catch one of the horses, mount, and drive the others 
before me. I would approach the pony I wished to mount, and holding 
out my hand, palm down, I would say, ‘‘Ha", ha”, ndhadé, So, so, stay 
there!’ And the horse would stand still for me. 


Likewise, when I drove the horses to the spring to drink, I would 
say, ‘H2’, hi’édé, Drink thou, drink ye!”’ 

As I came in the evening to the lodge, I would call, ‘‘ Raise the door!” 
Someone within, my father or one of my mothers would raise the skin 
door and let the horses in. I dismounted outside of the covered entrance, 
removed the lariat from my pony, and let him go in. 


In bad weather, my father stayed out with his horses all day; or 
else he returned to them in the afternoon, instead of sending me, as he 
usually did when the weather was fair. When he stayed all day, he took 
no lunch with him, expecting to eat when he came home in the evening. 


If a heavy storm was blowing, or a blizzard, the horses were not 
driven to the hills, but were kept in the lodge and fed what we had, hay 
or bark. However, even then, we let them run in the near-by woods to 
pick up what they could. They could eat wild-bean vines and ghost- 
whistle rushes and roseberries. The horses readily ate the berries off the 
tops of the rose bushes. They also ate. buck-brush, or broom-brush 
berries; these berries turn almost black in winter. It was wiser to drive 
the horses into the woods on a stormy day; if left on the prairie, they 
were likely to drift with the storm. 

Ghost-whistle rushes we thought very good feed for horses in the fall, 
when not frozen. In winter the rushes had ice inside of them and gave 
the horses diarrhoea, so that they sometimes died. 

Sometimes, if there was a very bad storm, the horses were kept in 
the lodge all day; especially, if we had enough feed ahead to give them. 

Feeding Corn. We fed our fast, or hunting horses a little corn, a 
cupful of shelled corn at a feeding. This was done both winter and 
summer; but not every day, only occasionally. 

I have heard that hunters, when intending to chase buffaloes, would 
sometimes parch an ear of corn over the coals, and having broken the 
parched ear in three pieces, fed a piece to each of three horses. This 
made the horse run swiftly and strong. I never saw parched corn thus fed 
myself, but I know that some so fed it in my tribe. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 181 


CARE OF HORSES ON THE WARPATH. 


It was the rule in a war party that every warrior should care for his 
own horse. Each man carried a hard, seasoned, ash-wood pin to picket 
his pony, in the evening a little after dark. A lariat was attached to the 
ash-wood pin, the other end being tied about one of the horse’s forelegs; 
both forelegs were first hobbled. A pony was never picketed far from 
the war party’s camping place. The picket pin with its lariat was car- 
ried, bound to the rear of the owner’s saddle, as the party traveled. 

A war party did not travel fast. We would send spies ahead who 
would ascend some high hill to see if the way were clear. The rest of the 
party followed. If the spies did not return to the main party, we took it 
as a sign that no danger was ahead; and feeling secure, we stopped when- 
ever we wished and rested and grazed our horses. These stops were every 
two or five miles, or like intervals, and at these stops and again at night 
our ponies grazed. The ponies were watered when we crossed a stream or 
passed a spring. When out with a war party, we fed our horses nothing 
but what they could graze. 

When running from the enemy, a warrior had to urge his pony at 
high speed; he did not give his horse any water, not a drop. He waited 
until the next morning, and then let his horse drink. If he watered his 
pony the same day, the pony was likely to die, especially if it was a hot 
day. We Indians said that if a horse was run all day when the weather 
was hot, the animal got a “burned heart.’’ Such a horse, until it was well 
rested, had to be kept tied up or hobbled to keep it from getting water,. 
else it would die. 


PROTECTING Pack HorRsSES FROM MAGPIES. 


Pack horses were apt to have sores on their backs where they were 
rubbed by the pack saddles. Indeed, nearly every pack horse had such 
sores. Our hunting horses were never thus troubled, for we took good 
care of them. In earlier times, our hunting horses were ponies, but 
swifter than those used for pack animals. The big horses we got later 
from white men were very swift, but were apt to give out after a run of 
three miles. Our hunting ponies were not as speedy as these white men’s 
horses, but they had more endurance and could go all day without tiring. 

Ponies with sore backs were troubled by magpies. The birds would 
pick at the sores with their sharp beaks, so that they did not heal. 
To keep the magpies away, we would tie an arrow, head down and feather 
up, to that part of the horse’s mane that lies nearest its back. 


182 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


To stay the pack saddle from slipping forward when the animal was 
going down hill, a thong was run back from the saddle and looped under 
the root of the pony’s tail. This was apt to develop a sore under the 
tail; and this sore, also, was troubled by magpies. So an arrow was 
often tied to the tail also, in the same manner. 


Only an arrow was used. A stick or branch tied to the horse’s mane 
would not frighten the magpies, but an arrow did. We thought this was 
because an arrow had the [magic] power to do so. The arrow was with- 
out a head, just a wooden shaft sharpened to a point. It was made espe- 
cially for the purpose, and nocked and feathered with three feathers as 
were other arrows. The feathers used were often of owl wings, which 
being spotted white and black, were more easily seen by the magpies. 
The feathers were left large; they were not trimmed narrow as were 
those of hunting arrows. The larger feathers more readily attracted the 
birds’ attention. 

Arrows were thus used to frighten magpies! in winter, chiefly. In 
summer the horses were fat and in good condition, and any sore healed 
quickly. In winter they were less vigorous; were perhaps, more often 
used; and our camp being in the woods, we were more likely to be 
troubled by magpies than in the summer village. But arrows were thus 
usod in summer also. | 

Fig. 18 is a sketch made by Goodbird, of a pony with protecting 
arrows, drawn under my direction. Some careless families did not 
-trouble to use arrows to frighten the magpies; wiser families, who took 
good care of their ponies, used them. A wise family might have two or 
three horses, each with an arrow on mane or tail. : 


HOoORSEGEAR. 


Bridles. Bridles and halters were made by twisting a lariat in or 
about the horse’s mouth. The lariat was seven or eight double arm- 
lengths (fathoms) long. Whether the lariat was used to make a single or 
double rein bridle, the free end was coiled up and inserted loosely under 
the belt of the rider, on the right hand side. This was of advantage to 
him, for if he was thrown from his horse he could seize the rein and save 
himself. 

We observed this custom both in buffalo hunting and in battle. I 
never heard that the lariat was allowed to drag on the ground, in the 


1] never saw arrows used thus. In my time we bound a blanket over the horse’s back to protect it 
from magpies—Goodbird. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 183 


hunt or battle. I should not think that a good way, for some other 
horse might step on the loose line and jerk the pony to a stop. 

I have already described one form of bridle or halter (Fig. 4). I will 
now describe additional types of bridles and halters, in use when I was 
young. 





Fig. 18. Goodbird’s Sketch of a Horse with feathered Arrowshafts 
tied to Mane and Tail as a Protection from Magpies. 


Fig. 19a and b shows two bridles nearly alike, yet not quite identical. 
These forms were used when a little haste, but not much permanence, 
was needful; as, for example, in a horse race. Such a bridle, made by a 
single twist in the horse’s mouth, was easily taken off again, and served 
excellently in a horse race, where it was necessary for the rider to use 
both reins. These two forms of bridle were not used in war. Fig. 20 
illustrates another bridle, excellent for use in races. 

Fig. 21 shows still another form of bridle. It was used especially for 
a horse with strong neck. It was a two-rein bridle; all war and buffalo- 


1The diagrams in this section were made as follows:—In each case, the horse’s head, with open 
mouth, was drawn by Goodbird. A split stick, the branch of a tree, which had some resemblance to a 
horse’s head was rigged up on Wolf-chief’s table and the bridle or halter was made with a rawhide lariat 
over this stick. The drawing I completed myself from this stick model. This was not difficult, as I had 
but to draw the outline of the bridle-tie in the horse’s mouth. Even then Goodbird often helped me as 
his fingers were more deft with the pencil than my own.—G. L. W. 





Fig. 19. 


pa 


Cc 


Fig. 24. 


Two Forms of the Racing Bridle, made by a Single Twist of the Lariat 


in the Horse’s Mouth. 


Fig. 20. 
Fig. 21. 
Fig. 22. 
Fig. 23. 
Fig. 24. 


Another Type of Racing Bridle. 

A Two-Rein Bridle used on a Strong-Necked Horse. 
Bridle used on a partially broken Pony in Racing. 
A Makeshift Bridle. 

A Bridle used in Swimming and Towing Horses. 


184 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 185 


hunting bridles had two reins. I do not think this type of bridle was ever 
used for riding short distances. Though it could be used on a gentle 
horse in battle or hunt, it was chiefly used on a strong-necked horse that 
did not readily obey the reins. 

In the diagram (Fig. 21) of this bridle, the dotted lines represent the 
lariat on the farther side of the horse’s head. The bridle is thus formed: 
The lariat is carried back of the horse’s ears, crossed in his mouth, one 
end is carried clear around the lower jaw, passed under the other end on 
the right hand side, and carried back through the mouth again. 

Fig. 22 is a bridle given me by Goodbird; it is not one I ever saw in 
old times. He says it was used in horse races on a pony partially broken, 
which was not much accustomed to having the lariat in his mouth. The 
bridle was formed by making two similar loops, lying not quite alike, 
as shown in the diagram, and slipping them over the under jaw. 

The bridle shown in Fig. 24 was used chiefly for swimming horses 
over the Missouri, and held the horse by both neck and jaw. A horse, so 
bridled, was often towed by the owner, who was ina bull-boat. This form 
of bridle was sometimes used when one rode horseback, if the pony was 
rather wild: and it often served as a halter, for leading a pony. It was 
not used in buffalo hunting or in war. 

To make the bridle, the lariat is knotted around the horse’s neck; 
the end is carried to the animal’s mouth, passed around under the lower 
jaw, and looped under the rein thus formed, Fig. 24a; then the loop is 
drawn out and passed around over the horse’s lower jaw, Fig. 24b. The 
completed bridle is shown in Fig. 24c. 

Finally, there was a kind of makeshift bridle which was used more 
like a halter than a bridle. If I happened to have no lariat with me, I 
tied a soft hobble over the lower jaw by an ordinary double knot, Fig. 
23. The knot was drawn tighter than is indicated in the diagram. 

Our Hidatsa name for bridle is é-cdute-kidiipaké, or mouth-double- 
tied. A horse obeyed the bridle reins readily. 

Lariats. I made my first lariat when I was about thirty years of 
age. We were hunting buffalo on the Yellowstone River, and one June 
day killed a cow. I took one side of the hide, saying to my brother-in- 
law, Son-of-a-star, ‘I am going to make a lariat (édutz).’”? My brother-in- 
law and I returned to camp that evening bringing the hide. The camp was 
quite large, for all the Indians of our Reservation took part in this hunt. 

In the morning at about seven o’clock, I took the green hide a short 
distance from the camping place. (I was not willing to wait until the 
hide was dry, for I knew that dry rawhide is more difficult to work than 





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1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 187 
green hide.) I trimmed the head and legs from the hide and cut it 
spirally into a long strip about four inches wide, much as you say a shoe- 
maker cuts a shoestring from a piece of leather. The cutting of the hide 
was a delicate operation, for the strip had to be of uniform width. I 
did not get through until noon. 


I went to camp for my dinner, boiled dried meat and raw marrow 
from the leg bones of a buffalo broken for the purpose. I ate the marrow 
with a stick. My hands were so tired from my morning’s work, that 
after my dinner I went down to the river and took a bath and short swim, 
diving and cooling off my body, for the day was sunny and hot. 


After my dinner, I cut two stakes of hard ash or juneberry wood, the 
diameter of a broom handle and about three feet in length. At a place 
twenty yards from our tipi, on the side toward the river, I staked the 
strip of green hide to the ground, fur side up (Fig. 25). Sitting at the 
right and grasping the strip with my left hand five inches from the farther 
stake, I began to shave the hair off the skin with my knife. A whetstone 
lay beside me on which I whetted my knife from time to time. As soon 
as I had removed the hair for about five inches, I moved backwards, and 
so on until the hair was all removed. I spent the whole afternoon thus, 
working and resting alternately. 


Before leaving the strip, I greased it well on both sides, with dried 
fat from a buffalo’s paunch. The lump of fat was slightly heated over 
the fire before being used. This greasing of the strip took about an hour 
and:a half; and I left the strip for the night. 


The next morning the strip had dried a little. After breakfast I 
began greasing it again. My friend, Took-a-gun, came over to me and 
said, ‘“You are making a lariat, I see.” Then he added: ‘‘ You had 
better take it off the stakes now, for it is oiled enough. Also, it is better 
to hold it over a fire than to leave it in the sun, as the grease will soak in 
better and the lariat will not crack or break afterwards. To soften the 
strip you should whip it against a tree and then draw it back and forth 
under a rough stone on which you should stand. After that, double it. 
and bite it with your teeth, at intervals of an inch, the whole length of | 
the strip.” 


I did as Took-a-gun said. I took the strip of hide from the stakes, 
coiled it, and holding the coil over the fire, waved it back and forth lest 
the heat scorch it. It took but a short time to warm the strip and let the 
grease soak in; and I stretched it between the stakes again. It cooled 
quickly. 


188 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, — 


Then I passed the strip around the trunk of a cottonwood tree and | 


ts ot it) al 2 ——e_- 


es Oe 


‘ 
4 
{ 


drew it back and forth against the rough bark, as shown in Fig. 26. I 


coiled the strip again, and vigorously lashed it against the tree. Then I 
went to the river bank and got a rough stone. I passed the strip under 
the stone, stepped on the stone, and drew the strip back and forth under 
it. This done, I began to soften the strip by biting it (Fig. 27). I folded 
it hair side out, and bit along the edge, running it from side to side 
between my teeth, repeating this at intervals of about an inch. By noon 
I had bitten but a section of about three feet, and my jaws were weary 
of the labor. 

For quite a while boys and girls had been standing about, watching 
me curiously. One-buffalo, a young man of my own age, joined them and 
I said to him, ‘‘I wish you would help me.” ‘I will help you,” he an- 
swered. After we had eaten our dinner, he began to work from the 
opposite end of the strip from where I had begun. When the strip had 
been bitten for its full length, we stretched it, one of us holding one end in 
his hands, while the other drew the strip through, doubled so that the 
two halves would run against each other. We also worked the flat sides, 
rubbing them one against the other to soften them. We completed our 
task about six o’clock in the evening. 

I now began to sharpen my knife preparatory to trimming the edges 
of the strip to a uniform width, for the thin parts of the lariat had 
stretched narrow. As I was whetting the blade, Took-a-gun came by. 
‘““You have a good, pliable rope,” he said. ‘‘What are you going to do 
with your knife?”’ 

“T am going to trim off the wider parts,’ I answered. 

“Don’t do that,” said Took-a-gun, ‘“‘Cut a hole in your lariat a 
short distance from the end, slip the end through it, and insert a pin to 
form a loop (Fig. 28). Throw the loop over your horse’s head, turn him 
in with the herd, and let the lariat drag for a day. Choose the horse that 
is the leader of your herd, so that the others following him, will be sure to 
step on the lariat. The.strain thus put upon it will stretch it into final 
shape. Then you may trim your lariat with safety, knowing that it will 
not stretch narrow in any part again.” 

The leader of our herd was a black horse. I put the lariat around his 
neck the next morning as Took-a-gun bade me. I purposely chased the 


horse around all day. In the afternoon, when I watered the horses, I 


took off the lariat while the black horse was drinking, but put it on again. 
Not until evening did I remove the lariat. It was white, and on the 
surface was evenly rough, like a file, where the teeth marks were. 


1924.] , Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 189 


I now trimmed the lariat very carefully to a uniform width. This 
was not more than the width of my two fingers, and was about half 
that of the green strip as I first staked it out. I fastened an iron ring 
at one end, by slipping the lariat through an aperture cut in the end, 
the latter being first slipped through the ring (Fig. 29). The noose 
was made by passing the lariat through the ring. When I made a 
bridle of my lariat, I always made it with the ring end of the rope. 





‘Fig.32 





Fig. 30. Rawhide Hobble fastened with a Wooden Pin. 

Fig. 31. A Hobble for Two Feet, tied only around One. 

Fig. 32. Looped Ends (x and y) of Soft Tent Skin Hobble through 
which other Hobbles are passed to be carried. 

Fig. 33. Method of Tying a Hobble of Soft Tent Skin. To prevent 
chafing, it is always tied below the joint at a. 


Hobbles. In olden times, we used hobbles a great deal. A good 
hobble was made of a strip of rawhide about the width of my first three 
fingers. A slit was cut in one end; a second slit was cut a little farther 
back, at a distance permitting the part toward the end to go around the 
horse’s ankle. The slit end was then drawn through the second slit and 


190 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


anchored with a wooden pin (Fig. 30). The other end of the hobble was 
slit in the same way so that both fore feet of the pony could be enclosed. 
When thus hobbled together, the horse’s fore feet should be about fifteen 
inches apart. If the feet were bound too close together, a horse could 
move rather rapidly by lifting both feet at once in a kind of gallop; but 
if his fore feet were bound about fifteen inches apart, the horse would 
instinctively use but one foot at a time, and could not go very rapidly. 
This kind of hobble was called tts?-iduti-aku-mida-ikatipé, foot-tie-of- 
wood-pin, or wooden-pin foot-tie. Sometimes when a horse was in the 
field, it was desired to free him from the hobble, which, however, might 
be tied again later in the day. In that case, the hobble was removed 
from one foot and wrapped around the other, fastened as shown in Fig. 31. 


Another kind of hobble, called éts?-iduti-aku-aticta or old-tent-skin- 
foot-tie, was made of a strip of soft tent skin about two fingers wide. It 
was tied around one foot just below the joint with a simple double knot, 
and the two ends were twisted and tied again around the other foot (Fig. 
33). Neither form of hobble was ever bound about the horse’s foot above 
the joint (a) because the horse would then be likely to chafe his skin. 


When I drove my horses to water, I gathered up four or five pairs of 
hobbles of the first-mentioned kind. When I took them off the horses, I 
put the pins back as if they were still on the horses’ legs, making loops 
as In Fig. 30. It was always my custom to keep one horse hobbled with a 
soft tent skin hobble. This last I untied, resolving it into a long thong 
which I passed through both loops (# and y, Fig. 82) of each of the other 
hobbles, and then tied the thong around my horse’s neck for safety. I 
did not put the thong through only one of the loops, as for example, z, 
because the other loop, hanging down, might be steeped upon by the 
horse and he might be injured. 

Saddles.!. Excepting the short account below, no good description 
was obtained of the making of saddles. From casual references by 
Wolf-chief to the form and use of saddles by the Hidatsa, the following 
was gleaned: 


There were two forms. The hunting or racing saddle was a pad of 
soft skin stuffed with antelope hair; even this was usually dispensed 
with in battle. A specimen. of the Hidatsa racing saddle is in the 
Museum, and the writer photographed a pony with such a saddle, as 
the animal stood hitched before Wolf-chief’s cabin. Fig. 34a is a trac- 
ing from this photograph. 





1See pp. 280, and 299. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 191 


The horn saddle described below is spoken of as a ‘““woman’s sad- 
dle” or a “pack saddle.” A buffalo hunter saddled his hunting horse 
with the pad, or hunting saddle, putting horn saddles on the pack 
horses which he took along to bring back the meat. A beautiful speci- 
men of the latter form of saddle, covered with a painted parfleche, was 
purchased of Wounded-face and sent to the Museum. Saddles were 
also made with wooden frames, presumably shaped like those with horn 
frames. 

In 1915 Wolf-chief gave details as to the making of deer-horn sad- 
dles, which, for the sake of completeness, are reported here:— 

When deer-horns are collected they are found to vary considerably 
in shape; some are straighter than others and many are more or less 
irregular. The kind that curves over in a half circle were always sought 
for saddle bows. If a man found one, or took it from a deer he killed, 
he saved it. If from a slain deer, he removed it by chopping around the 
root of the horn with his knife and breaking it off. The prongs or tines 
were chopped and broken off in the same way, but sometimes they were 
broken off with a stone and the irregularities of the stump smoothed out 
with a knife. It was not easy to get a perfect antler as they were apt to. 
show all kinds of crooks. 

When the horn was reduced to a mere bow, the ends were bevelled 
and three grooves cut on the outer surface, but not under. This was for 
the forward bow of the saddle which was nearly upright. The rear bow 
which curved slightly inward was cut in a similar manner, but shorter. 

Then two cottonwood boards were cut for the sides and lashed to the 
bows. The ends of the bows were bound down to the boards with green 
thongs drawn through three holes and around the three grooves on the 
ends of the horn bows. The horn bows were covered with a strip of green 
hide sewed beneath with sinews. The boards also were covered with 
green hide and sewed with sinew on the under side. (Fig. 35 a.) 

A strip of green hide was next swung between the two horn bows, to 
sit upon. The saddle was held to the fire or in the sun and when it was 
slightly dry, the hide was smoothed, polished and worked with a small 
stone. Thus, alternately dried, by fire or the sun, and worked with a 
stone, the strip did not shrink when finished. Such a saddle was excel- 
lent; one could load the meat of a whole buffalo on a well-made horn 
saddle.! 


is similar saddle is described by Bradbury, tbzd., 128-129. 
. . . The favorite buffalo-horse trots along loose, carrying only a light skin pad stuffed with deer 
or antelope hair. The hunter rides one of his pack- horses, in order that his ‘runner’ may be fresh for the 
severe labor of the chase.’’ (Boller, ibid., 225.) 


192 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


Saddle Skins. Skins were placed under a horn saddle to keep it 
from galling a horse’s back. One saddle skin, laid fur side down, was 
used if the horse bore only his rider. Ifa heavy load was packed on 
the animal’s back, four or five saddle skins, or half a folded tent skin, 













I <i ‘| 


SY 








§ 


Fig. 35. 


Fig. 34. a, Pad or Racing Saddle; b, Flaying a Buffalo preliminary to 
Preparation of a Saddle Skin. 

Fig. 35. a, Pack Saddle with Deer Horn Frame; 6, Transporting a 
Tipi Cover and Poles. | 


was used. The name for saddle skin is edipu-ddxuké-ddaxpi, or belly- 
saddle-skin. Such askin had short hair, as the hair on a buffalo’s belly 
is always short. A saddle skin was thus taken. When a buffalo had 
been killed, it was turned over on its back, legs in air, and stayed in 
this position by turning the head to one side, letting it lie on one cheek 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 193 


with horn to the ground (Fig. 34b). The belly skin was then easily 
removed. A yearling or a two-year-old buffalo was thus flayed, or a 
cow also, if the whole hide was wanted for a tent skin. 


Carrying Tipi Poles. In olden times, tipis were transported some- 
times by dogs, sometimes by horses. When a pony was used, six poles 
weré bound on one side of the animal, and six on the other. About two feet 
from the smaller end of each pole, a hole was burned, through which the 
tying thong was passed. These holes were burned with a red hot piece of 
iron, about the size of a lead pencil. Before we got iron, instead of holes, I 
think we must have made grooves around the poles. I think this was the 
custom, because some people did so even in my own time. The groove 
was cut just deep enough to receive the thong. To tie each group of 
poles, the thong was passed within this groove around the first pole, then 
around the second pole, and so on. They were then bound together 
simply by tying the two ends of the thong. The tying for both grooved 
and perforated poles was the same. 


A sort of makeshift travois was sometimes made by binding sticks or 
wooden bars transversely across the two bundles of tipi poles, at the 
place where a travois basket would ordinarily be bound to the frame of a 
horse travois. In this case, the poles were bound together in a cylindrical 
bundle on each side of the horse, while ordinarily they were let drag 
loosely and spread out behind fan-fashion. Ona makeshift travois of this 
type, a light load could be placed; but never a heavy burden, that would 
spring the poles and make them crooked. Good tipi poles were of poplar, 
which was difficult to get. Cottonwood poles which we could cut on the 
reservation, we thought not so good. 


The tipi cover was often loaded upon the horse’s back. Fig. 356 is a 
rude diagram made by Goodbird, to show how a tipi was carried. The 
cover was rolled up and slung over the pony’s saddle, half on one side 
and half on the other. The two bunches of tipi poles were bound to the 
outside of the tent and allowed to drag on the ground, as shown in the 
diagram. They were more easily dragged thus, bound to the outside of 
the folded cover. 


A pony thus laden with tipi cover and poles was led by one of the 
women of the family when on the march. Sometimes the woman rode 
ahead on a pony and led the pack animal; sometimes she walked beside 
him, leading him; but he was always led, a rope being thrown about his 
neck for the purpose. The woman had to be careful that no pony follow- 
ing her own stepped on the ends of her poles and injured them. 


194 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


On the march, a woman might also carry a light load, as two or three 
blankets or a robe. Such a load she carried on her back with her pack 
strap, which had both a shoulder and a forehead band. Though the 
headband was not generally used, it was of help sometimes, as when the 
woman wished to rest her shoulders. If the headband was kept con- 
stantly in place, it would fret the skin of the woman’s forehead. 


The Travois. For a description of this apparatus and its use see the 
account of a hunting party traveling with horses, mules, and dogs 
(pp. 275-276, 280). 


NAMES FOR HorRssEs. 


Our Family Herd. At the time when I began to herd horses, our 
family owned about a dozen. There were three mares, which had no 
names as I recollect; one was a yearling and another a two-year-old. 
Two of the herd were fast horses, good runners and used only for buffalo 
hunting and chasing enemies; and four were working horses. These four 
and the two fast horses were geldings. Some of the working horses were 
very slow and lazy. We had also one stallion; he was a gentle horse, used 
both for riding and working. 


We named horses for their peculiarities, their color, marks upon the 
body, or the like. I will now try to give you the names of those of our 
family herd, with the meanings. Our two fast horses were called :— 


Tsitataki-itsiwuckac, or Deer-horse; so named because on the hunt 
he could overtake a deer or antelope. 

Edatakic, or White-belly; from édi, belly, and atdki, white; so 
called because he had a white belly. 

The four work geldings were called :— 

Tsitanéxic, or White-tail. 

Tisdi-cépie, or Dark-bay. 

Tsadic, or Light-bay. 

Cipicée, or Black. 

The stallion, we called Nawakcéc. We always called the stallion 
of the herd by this name. The word means “stallion,” but we used it 
like a proper name. | 


Besides the foregoing, we had a big mare that we called Mika-akt - 
o’ttac, or Female-that-is-big. This term we used about the same as a 
proper name; it may be translated, Big-mare. 

Other Names. I will now give you the names of some of the village 
horses as I remember them :— 


1924.] _ Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 195 


Naaxpihé-atakic, or White-mane (Mane-white). 
Itsiwucka-aku-ita-takic, or Horse-with-face-white. 
Itsiwucka-aku-ixidu-atakic, or Horse-with-forehead-white. 
Other names in English are as follows:— 


Split-ears White-ears 
Dark-face Thin-face 

Yellow Big-belly 
Long-hoof Red-ears 
Big-ankle White-tailed-grey 
Thin-bay Spotted-one 
No-ears Yellow-spotted-one 
Long-ears White-spotted-one 
Horse-that-runs-in-two-gaits Blackie . 
Bob-tail Black-spotted-one 
Much-mane Red 

Gentle-horse Red-spotted 
Broncho 


Age Names. Certain terms denoting a horse’s various ages, we used 
almost as if they were proper names. 


Thus, we called an old mare Mika-aku-xiéc, or Female-that-is-old. 
A colt under a year old we called Awa-hida-nakac or Year-new-youngling; 
we may perhaps translate, New-year-youngling or One-year-youngling. 
A colt in his second year we called Awa-fkupa-nakae or Year-second- 
youngling. A two year old colt, one that had completed two years, or 
two winters, we called Ita-wida-dupic or His-winters-two (or His- 
winters-are-two). 

These were not, strictly speaking, names, as we did not use them in 
addressing the horses. We did use them in speaking to one another in the 
lodge, and everyone recognized the terms, or names, as belonging to 
particular animals. However, horses did not learn to know their names 
as did dogs, nor do I think they are as intelligent as dogs. 


DOG CULTURE. 


The best systematic study of the Indian dog is the recent paper of 
Glover M. Allen, Dogs of the American Aborigines.! Among others this 
author distinguishes two types of dog for the Missouri country, the 
Plains-Indian dog and the Sioux dog. To quote:— 


Characters.—Size medium, slightly smaller than the Eskimo Dog; ears large, 
erect; tai drooping or slightly upcurved; coat rather rough, usually ‘ochreous 
tawny’ or ‘whitish tawny,’ or sometimes black and gray, mixed with white. 

Distribution.—Western North America from British Columbia south perhaps to 
the Mexican Boundary and eastward through the Great Plains Region. 

Notes and Descriptions.—It is apparently to this dog that most of Lord’s de- 
scription (1866, 2, p. 222) applies in his Naturalist in Vancouver Island and British 
Columbia. So impressed was he by the general similarity of these dogs to coyotes, 
that he believed the one derived from the other, and makes one general description 
do for both, with the addition that in the dog the hair ‘‘ becomes shorter, softer, and 
more uniform in coloration, although the tail retains its bushy appearance.” The 
general color is an “ochreous gray,” the hairs tipped with black, those of the neck 
tricolored, having their ‘lower two-thirds reddish brown; then a ring of white, and 
a black tip.’’ This pattern gives “‘a most curious speckled look’’ to the bristling 
neck of an enraged dog. Coues (1873) was equally impressed by the general resem- 
blance of these dogs of the Plains Indians to coyotes, and considered the two animals 
essentially the same in structural points, though he thought it ‘‘unnecessary to com- 
pare the skulls.”” Indeed, he accepted it as unquestionable that in every Indian 
community mongrel dogs are found, shading into coyotes in every degree.’ 

The Sioux dog :— 

Characters.—A large wolf-like dog, probably closely related to the Plains- 
Indian Dog but larger and gray rather than tawny in color. 

Distributton.—Probably the north-central plains area, from the Missouri north 
perhaps to Saskatchewan. 

Notes.—No doubt the carrier-dogs differed slightly among the various tribes 
of Plains Indians covering the wide stretch of country from Northern Mexico to Sas- 
katchewan, so that local breeds of the general type could be distinguished did we 
have opportunity to compare them. Morton (1851), who tried to obtain informa- 
tion from frontier officers in the earlier half of the last century, quotes a letter from 
H. H. Sibley, a correspondent in Minnesota, who avers that ‘‘the Indian Dog differs 
much in size and appearance among different tribes’’ but that they all have small, 
sharp, erect ears. He particularly recalls that “among the Sioux, it is large and 
gray, resembling the Buffalo Wolf.’’ Packard (1855) has mentioned “whitish 
tawny se oes 

Figures probably representing this dog, are shown in some of the plates of 
Catlin’s Indians (1841, colored edition, 2) small to be sure, but showing the gray 





1Bulletin, Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard College, in Cambridge, vol. 63, no. 9, Cam- 
bridge, 1920. 
2Allen, ibid., 449. 


196 


1924.] | Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 197 


coloring, large erect ears, and scimitar-shaped tail carried out behind. His Plate 
103 in 2 is a spirited drawing illustrating a dog-fight in which all the dogs of the party, 
though burdened with their loads ‘‘en travois’’ are rushing to participate. 

If the ideas of our informants are to be credited, the Hidatsa dog was 
approximately of the Sioux type (pp. 197, 204, 212, 213). 

Maximilian says of the Sioux dogs:— 

. Smaller articles were conveyed by the dogs. . . . The dogs, whose flesh is 
eaten by the Sioux, are equally valuable to the Indians. In shape they differ very 
little from the wolf, and are equally large and strong. Some are of the real wolf 
colour; others black, white, or spotted with black and white, and differing only by the 
tail being rather more turned up. Their voice is not a proper barking, but a howl, 
like that of the wolf, and they partly descend from wolves, which approach the 
Indian huts, even in the daytime, and mix with the dogs.” 

. A great number of Indians’ dogs surrounded this village, which did not differ 
from those we have already described. Many of them were perfectly similar to the 
wolf in form, size, and colour; they did not bark, but showed their teeth when any 
one approached them.? 

On the other hand, Maximilian seems to distinguish between the 
Hidatsa dog and the Sioux type, as:— 

. When they quit their huts for a longer period than usual, they load their 
dogs with the baggage, which is drawn in small sledges, made of a couple of thin, 
narrow boards, nine or ten feet in length, fastened together with leather straps, and 
with four cross-pieces, by way of giving them firmness. Leather straps are attached 
in front, and drawn either by men or dogs. The !oad is fastened to the sledge by 
straps. . . The Mandans and Manitaries have not, by any means, so many dogs as 
the Assiniboins, Crows, and Blackfeet. They are rarely of the true wolf’s color, but 
generally black, or white, or else spotted with black and white. Among the nations 
further to the north-west they more nearly resemble the wolf, but here they are more 
like the prairie wolf (Canis latrans). We likewise found, among these animals, a 
brown race, descended from European points, hence the genuine bark of the dog is 
more frequently heard here, whereas among the western nations they only howl. 
The Indian dogs are worked very hard, have hard blows, and hard fare; in fact, they 
are treated just as this fine animal is treated among the Esquimaux.! 

Brackenridge, who resided for a time with the Arikara, close ae 
bors of the Hidatsa, gives the following :— ; 

The dogs, of which each family has thirty or forty, pretended to make a show of 
fierceness, but on the least threat, ran off. They are of different sizes and colors. A 
number are fattened on purpose to eat, others are used for drawing their baggage. It 
is nothing more than the domesticated wolf. In wandering through the prairies, I 
have often mistaken wolves for Indian dogs. The larger kind has long curly hair, and 
resembles the shepherd dog. There is the same diversity amongst the wolves of this 
country. They may be more properly said to howl, than bark. 





1Allen, ibid., 455. 

2Maximilian, zbid., vol. 1, 316. 

3Maximilian, ibid., vol. 1, 318. 

4Maximilian, ibid., vol. 2, 273. 

5Brackenridge, H. M., Journal of a Voyage up the River Missouri; performed in 1811 (Baltimore, 
1816), 141-142. f 


198 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


Unfortunately the early artists, Catlin and Bodmer, have not given 
us good pictures of dogs; we note, however, a sketch by Kurz. 


The above observations were made a few years before the birth of 
the author’s oldest informant and make it clear that even then, the 
aboriginal breed was well on the road to extinction. In any case, these 
statements fully confirm the words of an informant, ‘‘We have none of 
the old pure breed left on the Reservation.” 


ORIGIN. 


In August, 1913, Wolf-chief, an Hidatsa born about 1849, related the 
following tradition concerning the origin of dogs:— 


My father once told me the story of how dogs began, but I do not 
remember it very well. There was once a man named Yellow-dog whose 
medicine, mystery, or supernatural power, was a dog. You know that 
in old times every Indian had a protecting power, supernatural influence, 
or ‘‘medicine”’ as: white men call it. Yellow-dog’s medicine was a dog. 
His father was a wolf. As the story of Yellow-dog relates that the wolf 
was red-chested, it was evidently a supernatural wolf, for there are no 
wolves that have red chests naturally. 


All the colors seen on the squashes in our native gardens were to be 
found on the dogs we had in the old times. They were yellow-chested, 
spotted, brown, and of other colors. 


The mother of Yellow-dog, was an Indian woman, an Hidatsa. I 
do not know how she came to marry the red-chested wolf. Yellow-dog 
also had supernatural power from an eagle and when the Sun’s wife was 
in the village Yellow-dog got after her. 


There were four dogs: Ixi-tsé’c, or. Forehead-raised, meaning that 
the dog’s forehead did not lie flat, but was convex and swelled outward 
like a lump; Ati-kééc, or Lodge-digger; MawAkua-naxpic, or That- 
hung-high-catch-with-the-mouth (so named because he could jump high 
and catch drying meat on a high rack) or High-catcher; and Icta-dopac, 
or Eyes-four. This last we may translate, I think, Four-eyes. This dog 
was so called because he had small dark spots over the eyes that made him 
look as if he had four eyes. He was very gentle. 


The story goes that all our squashes obtained their colors from dogs. 
Some squashes are pure white and others have the same colors as our old 


1Kurz, Friedrich, Aus dem Tagebuch des Malers Friedrich Kurz tiber seinen Aufenthalt bei den 
7 erat eke 1848-1852. Bearbeitet und mitgeteilt von dem Neffen des Malers, Dr. Emil Kurz 
(Bern, 1896). 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 199 


breed of dogs. But as I say, I do not know how they increased, or how 
the dogs got their colors. 


Yellow-dog taught our people about dogs. ‘That dog, High- 
catcher,” he said, “jumps up and seizes meat on the drying stage. If 
you do not like him because he leaps up and steals your meat, kill him.! 
That dog, Forehead-raised, has a bad temper and is surly. If you do not 
like this, kill him. You may also kill, Lodge-digger, for he, also is a bad 
dog. When he digs into the earth roof at the foot of the lean-to poles on 
the outside of the lodge, it is a sign that someone within the lodge is going 
to die or that enemies or Sioux will kill somebody. But do not kill gentle 
dogs like Four-eyes. Dogs are magic friends.. They have mystery 
power. When I die I shall go up in the sky; the village dogs will call to 
me early in the morning, about daylight, like coyotes and again at noon; 
and in the evening they will howl and bark at me.” 


We did as Yellow-dog told us. In my own day, I know that it was a 
rule to kill any dog that dug outside at the foot of the earth-lodge roof. 
We also killed any dog that was surly, but we kept the dogs that were 
gentle and did not steal. 


BUFFALO-BIRD-WOMAN’S NARRATIVE. 


In August, 1913, the following statements were made by Buffalo- 
bird-woman, an Hidatsa, born about 1840:— 


THe Puppy. 


Dogs bred at any time of the year. As we Indians knew, gestation 
lasted for two months. As soon as we noticed that a bitch was gravid we 
were careful not to put a travois on her or kick her abdomen or otherwise 
hurt her, lest her young be injured. Some bitches were very surly and 
cross when gravid; others were always gentle, whether gravid or not. 


Usually, there were from seven to ten puppies in a litter. As we 
wanted only big dogs, and those of the first litter never grew large, we 
always killed them, sparing not even one. From the second litter, we 
kept three or four of the puppies with large heads, wide faces, and big 
legs, for we knew they would be big dogs; the rest we killed. 


In order that the mother might stay in good condition, we never 
saved more than three or four puppies out of any litter. When there were 





1 Those invaluable but greatly abused members of the community, the dogs, take advantage of the 
temporary inattention of the women to prowl among the lodges, in hopes of being able to steal something 
edible. . . The disturbance, however slight, is sufficient to draw the attention of one of the squaws, 
who picks up whatever comes first to hand, be it a billet of wood, a kettle, or an axe, and hurls it at the 
assembly with the complimentary remark ‘  Nar-har-ah-suk- kuk,’ (Go away, you fools,) which advice is 
promptly heeded.’”’ (Boller, ibid., 68-69.) 


200 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


too many to nurse, the mother became poor in flesh, very often grew weak 
and sometimes died. Of the three or four puppies saved, we might choose 
one bitch and the rest males. 


Sometimes a neighbor might ask that a puppy be kept for him. In 
that case one of those we had intended to kill was left alive with the rest. 
We always gave such a puppy as a gift and never expected anything in 
return. 


- Puppies were born blind, but after four nights, their eyes opened. 
When ten days old, their teeth appeared. At this time the neighbor for 
whom one of the puppies might be saved would come to the lodge for it, 
for it was now old enough to be given away. 


After they were ten days old, puppies began to eat food that we 
gave them; but before we fed them, we smoked them. We burned some 
of the larger kind of sage on some coals, and I, or someone of the family, 
held a puppy with his head in the sage smoke (Fig. 36a) until white saliva, 
like soapsuds, dribbled from his mouth. Then I took the puppy from the 
smoke. Lifting him up, I said, ‘“‘I want to test this dog to see if he will 
carry a tent’’ and then let him drop a few inches to the ground. If the 
dog fell over, I knew he would not grow up strong, but if he held his 
place and did not fall, I would say, ‘‘Hey! hey! this dog will carry my 
tent.” Smoking the puppy was good for him; it gave him a good 
appetite so that he ate anything and everything, with no worms in his 
intestines. 


For food for the puppies we cut any kind of meat into small pieces 
and boiled it. After a meal, scraps of cooked meat were cut up and given 
to them. We would not give puppies raw meat, because if we did, they 
would have worms. This rule applied only to puppies; to old dogs we 
gave either raw or cooked meat. Puppies should be fed often so as to 
keep them fat and make them grow big. 


When a puppy was ten days old, his teeth appeared, growing sharper 
and sharper every day. Very soon he began to bite his mother’s teats; 
then she would grow restless and wean him. As a puppy grew up he 
sometimes developed a surly disposition. He would bite and snap at 
people or fight other dogs. Such a dog was killed. Sometimes the owner 
would kill him with the blow of a stick or he would ask some young man 
to shoot him with a gun or arrows. We never ate the body of a dead dog 
nor saved the hide. The carcass was taken down to the Missouri 
River and thrown over the bank. : 


. » 
wees 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 201 


Wolf-chief adds the following note:— 


The last born of a litter of puppies was always the smallest and was named 
Ndkaka, or, “Last One.’’ The word nékaka, was always used in referring to the 
last born; even in a family of children the smallest was called Nékaka. » 


CASTRATION. 


Male dogs were castrated to make them gentle and keep them fat. 
Uncastrated dogs were apt to be surly and would run away with other 
dogs that came around the lodge. A dog was castrated when about a 
year old; but if fat and in good condition, he might be castrated much 
earlier; but the year age was the rule. It was not necessary to castrate 
sooner, because dogs did not breed until they were about a year old. 

My aunt’s husband, Blacks-his-shield always castrated the dogs of 
our family. Because he was our relative, he made no charge for doing 
this; if any other family hired him, they had to give him a big dinner. 

The dog was muzzled by athong bound about his jaws; his fore- 
legs were bound together; and a thong was passed around his body and - 
over his forelegs. A robe was thrown over him and his hind legs held 
firmly by an assistant while the castrator worked, opening the skin of 
the scrotum and pulling the testicle from the dog’s body, without cutting it. 

Wolf-chief adds the following supplementary data:— 

To castrate puppies two men wrought together. One, sitting on the ground, 
~ legs apart, held the puppy by its legs, with its baek to the ground, one foreleg and one 
hind leg in each hand, and the puppy’s head toward him; the other, the castrator, 
cut out the scrotum with a knife and drew out the stone in its sack. The inner sack 
was also cut open and the stone pulled out with the white muscle to which it was 
attached and which was an inch or two long. This was drawn out, not cut off. Dur- 
ing the operation the puppy howled, but was too young to bite or otherwise injure 


the operators. One of the male puppies of a litter might be saved uncastrated, for 
breeding, if the owner had need. 


FEEDING. 


As dogs became adult we fed them meat and also cooked corn for 
them, boiling it into a kind of mush. Anything that turned sour in the 
lodge, like boiled corn, we gave to the dogs. Any food that was spoiled 
or for some reason was rejected by the family, was set aside for them. If, 
on the hunt, an animal was killed that was lean and poor in flesh, it was 
given to the dogs. A man who killed a buffalo, saved the parts that he did 
not want for himself and gave them to the dogs. Sometimes he would 
gather up for his dogs the cast-away pieces of another man’s butchering. 

The tough outside part of a buffalo’s ham was stripped off for the 
dogs, while the meat near the bone was kept. The parts of the leg below 


202 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


the knee were also thrown away or given to the dogs. When buffalo were 
abundant, the hunters kept only the best parts, for when two or three 
buffalo were killed not all the meat could be carried home. The next day 
after the killing anyone who wished meat for his dogs could go to the 
place where the carcasses were butchered and get the cast-away pieces. 

In times of scarcity the people cared for their dogs as best they could. 
They ate the bones that were crushed and broken in cooking and then 
thrown away. The dogs could chew and gnaw at them and get some food 
in this way. 


KENNELS.! 


Ordinarily, if the weather was warm, dogs slept outside of the lodge. 
If the weather was windy, they usually huddled down on the ground on 
the lee side of the covered entrance to the door of the earth-lodge. They 
also very commonly lay on the roof of the covered entrance or on the 
flat part of the roof of the lodge that surrounded the smoke-hole. Our 
village was rather crowded and the roofs of the lodges were used by both 
men and dogs as lounging places, so that one often saw dogs sitting or 
lying on them. If the night were quite cold, dogs might be permitted in- 
side of the lodge, in the rear beyond the fire; but usually the dogs were 
kept out of the lodge. 

When a bitch was about to litter, a kennel about three and one half 
feet high, with a circular floor about four feet in diameter, was often 
built. Poles were united at the top as for a tipi and grass spread over this 
framework. Then a few small logs were leaned against the grass to hold 
it down. No earth covering was thrown over it. The floor inside was 
bedded down with grass, but it was not dug out. Fig. 36b was drawn by 
my son, Goodbird, under my direction, to show one of these kennels. The 
door, which was closed by leaning a short plank over it, had a kind of 
lintel or cross piece above it with small logs leaning against it. Kennels 
like this were used only for housing a bitch and her puppies. Old dogs 
had no need for it. 

Some of the lodges in the village were roofed with loose earth dug 
out of pits nearby and not with sod. To make a dog kennel, some of the 
families who lived on the edge of the village sought one of these pits made 
by digging earth for the roof and leaned sticks against the wall of the pit, 
leaving a place for the door. The frame thus made was covered with 
grass and logs laid against it, as in the case of the kennel described above 


1See p. 244. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 203 


(Fig. 366). Fig. 36 is a sketch by Goodbird, after my description, which 
conveys a fairly accurate idea of the frame of one of these kennels. It 
will be noticed that it has a lintel or cross piece like that described in 
Fig. 366. Besides these kennels, I have also seen one or two made like 
Fig. 36c, but with earth thrown over the grass like the roof of an earth 
lodge.! 





Fig. 36. a, Holding a Puppy over the Smoke before its First Feeding; 
b,*A Dog Kennel; c, Sketch of the Frame of a Second Type of Kennel made 
by placing Sticks ae the Walls of a Pit and leaving a Place for an Entrance. 

















is ert fl lz LY ij 
















AE = ly ae 
Kit ee Hg ALS cae Racor tle 


arn \IpTatinss ye lee, 
ayes Th aa 
se ay Ii 


—S 


Niece “UGANt 
Olt he iy Wa y 





Ss % “1 Ges, 


oe: se AT (err, i 


\7, 






7, 





Fig. 37. Wolf-chief’s Model of a aie of a nee Kennel. Drawn 
from a photograph by F. N. Wilson. 


Wolf-chief gives the following supplementary information :— 


When a litter of puppies was expected to be born, a kennel was prepared for them. 
A pit five or six feet in diameter and about a foot and a half or two feet deep was dug. 
Across the center was laid a log as for the ridge pole of a cabin roof and against this 
were laid split planks. These planks were covered with earth and grass like an earth- 
lodge, but with a space left for the door. The pit was dug deep enough so that small 





1For shelter on the hunt, see p. 244-245. 


204 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


puppies could not climb out. In cold weather or when it rained, the door was covered 
with an old skin, which was weighted down with an old log or a heavy stick. I have 
made a model of the frame of such a kennel (Fig. 37). 


‘THE VILLAGE Doas. 


We did not like to keep too many dogs around as they made every- 
thing dirty; and, as I have said, we gave away or killed the puppies we 
did not want.! In very old times I never knew a dog to be sold, though 
later, our customs changed, and dogs were purchased for the feast at. war 
dances. Young puppies were usually killed by dashing them against 
the ground; sometimes this was done by boys, sometimes by women. 


I never knew anyone to pen up a bitch to prevent breeding. As 
nearly as I can recollect, we expected our bitch to litter once a summer. 
I do not know how many times she could have littered during the year. 


We had but one breed of dogs in the village in old times, but the 
colors of the dogs varied greatly.2, We have none of the old pure breed 
left on the Reservation of which I know. White men’s dogs have mixed 
with ours so that the old pure-blooded breed has been lost. Our old 
breed of dogs all had straight wide faces, heavy, but not short legs, and 
ears that stood erect like those of a coyote. The dogs were about the 
size of a wolf. Their hair was not very long and lay smooth and silky . 
over the body. Our old Indian dogs had tails in general rather shorter 
and not so bushy as those I now see on the Reservation; and their tails 
curved upward somewhat at the end, not like a coyote’s which lies straight. 


Early in the night, about nine o’clock, before we were ready for bed, 
some dog was sure to begin barking or howling, ‘‘Wu-wu-wu!”’ and was 
soon joined by all the other dogs in the village, even the puppies. How- 
ever, they did not bark very long. Again, the barking was almost certain 








1In 1914 the narrator said that some households had as many as twenty dogs, but that this was re- 
garded as a very large number. 

2One year later, Buffalo-bird-woman made the following statement:— 

Some of our dogs were pure black, some white, some blue (iron-grey?), some red, and some spotted 
with every color. The majority of our dogs were spotted; there were only a few of one color. Some of 
our dogs were shaggy; some had short tails. A bitch might litter and have two puppies that would 
grow up with short tails about two and one-half inches long, while the rest of the litter might have bushy 
tails. Dogs with shaggy faces were apt to be mean and fight and be surly and cross. 

All our dogs were about the same size. We had no small-sized dogs as we have now. All these dogs 
were, of course, of the old breed, which is now about extinct. There are a few of what we called ‘“‘ Four 
Eyes,”’ the kind with spots over their eyes, but I do not know of any pure-blooded example of the old 
Breee noe left. There is one which Butterfly says is of the old ‘“‘Four Eyes” variety at Mrs. Packs- 
wolf’s cabin. : 

3In 1914 the narrator stated that: Dogs barked at all times, so I do not know whether our village 
was ever warned of the approach of enemies by the barking of dogs or not. But the dogs of our enemies 
were different. We knew they would bark at us if we came near their camp. For that reason a man 
starting on a war party should not eat the entrails taken from near a game animal’s backbone; if he ate 
these, the enemy dogs would be sure to announce his approach by barking. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 205 


to be repeated about midnight and a third time just before daylight.! If 
any dog in the village set up an outcry during the day, the rest were sure 
to join. 

When hunters returned with meat, someone on the lookout would 
spy them and cry out, ‘‘ Hida-é’! Hida-é’! Hida-é’!”’ At once, all the dogs 
knowing what the cry meant, would join in with ‘‘Wu-u-u-u!”’, for the 
dogs, too, rejoiced at the prospect of meat. Our dogs barked just like 
white men’s dogs. 

A stranger coming to an earth-lodge would be beset by the dogs 
belonging there and probably also by the dogs of the neighboring lodges. 
The dogs contented themselves with barking; they did not bite.’ 

- A Sioux who came to our village to steal horses at night would very 
likely be detected by the dogs, I think, but in my lifetime I never knew of 
the village dogs announcing the discovery of enemies by barking. We 
always had men in the village on the lookout. If an enemy were dis- 
covered, as sometimes happened, from some roof in the village, the men 
would call out, “‘Ahahtits, they come against us!’’ Then all the dogs 
would join in the hubbub too. There were always men watching on the 
roofs. Early in the morning they ascended the roofs and looked around 
over the hills and over their horses to see if all were well. 

We were always careful not to approach too closely to our neighbors’ 
dogs when they were nursing. All-blossom was once bitten by a dog on 
the calf of her right leg. The dog came behind her, caught her, and held 
on, tearing the flesh of the leg open. That is the way our dogs bite.® 
This happened at old Fort Berthold or Like-a-fish-hook-village. All- 
blossom is now about sixty. She was then a young woman and married. 

* 
The dog had young and she went too close to her. 
«| . The mournful howl] of a dog, mounted on the top of one of the lodges, breaks the almost 
deathlike stillness. The notes are instantly caught up by others, and directly every cur in the village 
is taking his part with commendable energy. Commencing soft and low, the noise grows louder and 
deeper until it finally dies away in a prolonged wail; modulated by distance, the sound is not unmusical. 

This canine matinée, rouses up the sleepers; a stir is evident in the village, and soon the curling 
smoke from the lodges floats in the morning air. The squaws, old and young, followed by the usual 
retinue of dogs, hasten down to the river to fill their kettles while the warriors from the tops of the lodges 
anxiously scan the prairies to discover ‘signs’ of enemies. Everything appearing quiet, the horses are 
driven forth, each band guarded by a young brave, who takes them where the best pasture is to be found, 
and brings them back at sundown. As the horses in the course of the day often stray to a distance of 
five or six miles from the village, the guards act also as scouts, and ranging over the surrounding hills, 
serve not only to discover game (7.e., buffalo), but also the approach of a war party. Timely alarm can 
thus be given, and the horses hurried in, while the warriors prepare for battle.’’ Boller, zbid., 51-52. 

2Henry, who visited the Hidatsa in 1806, gives one a different impression :— 

“We found it dangerous whilst in this village to stir out of the hut without a good stout cudgel to 
keep off the dogs; they were so numerous and savage as sometimes to defy the brandishing of our clubs, 
so that we were actually obliged to engage them. . . Therefore, it is. necessary for a person to be con- 
stantly upon his guard against the equally troublesome children and dogs. . . .At the Mandanes’ 
we were not incommoded in this manner; they have no dogs to annoy strangers, and the children are not 
soimpertinent. They have not the same occasion for dogs as the Big Bellies [Hidatsa], being a station- 
ary people, whose longest excursions are only for a few days to hunt buffalo, for which purpose, and to 
convey home the meat, they always use horses.’’-—Henry, A. and Thompson, D., New Light on the 
Early History of the Great Northwest. Edited by Elliott Coues (New York, 1897), vol. 1, 350-351. | 

3This may be arather important observation. A coyote bites in a rapid succession of snapping bites. 


Buffalo-bird-woman’s observaton of the Indian dog tearing his teeth from the wound was brought out 
without any leading question.—G. L. W. 


206 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


Docs AS PROPERTY. 


Wolf-chief adds:— 


The dogs of our family belonged to all the women of the household. Ownership 
was not divided among them. 

Dogs were bought and sold. If we had a dog that was poor in flesh, weak, or 
otherwise of little account, we might buy a well-favored puppy to take its place. We 
bought the puppy after the teeth appeared and he was old enough to care for himself, 
that is, when he was independent of his-mother. A small gift was given in exchange 
for the puppy. 

I never knew of.a trained dog being sold. I cannot say that they were never sold, 
but I never knew of an instance in which it happened. For a well-favored puppy, a 
knife or a piece of tent skin, cut out ready to trim for a pair of moccasins, or some other 
small article, might be given. The woman receiving the gift might keep it or present 
it to her husband or brother. In my family, so far as I know, neither my wife nor 
my mother or sister ever bought or sold a dog. However, if someone had come to our 
lodge to buy a dog, and the women of the household were willing to sell one, I think all 
the women of our household would have agreed together about the sale. If just one 
of the women had sold the dog to someone who wanted it, the rest of the women 
would not have thought this to be right. They would have said, “You have not done 
right. That was a good dog; we needed him ourselves.” 


GATHERING Woop. 


One of the chief uses for dogs was to carry the wood gathered for 
fuel! In our family, sometimes my sister, Cold-medicine, or my two 
mothers, or all four of us would gather wood. We always took the dogs 
and travois with us. | 

I was two years older than Cold-medicine, my sister. When she 
and I and our two mothers went out for wood, we usually started just 
after breakfast, say about seven thirty in the morning and returned 
about noon. From our summer village, we usually went about a mile 
and a half to the timber, but when we were in our winter village, the wood 
was nearer. 

When we took the travois out of the lodge preparatory to going after 
wood, the dogs would bark, “Wu, wu, wu!” and wag’ their tails with 
joy. Between the three or four dogs our family usually kept, there was 
not much preference, since all of them were good working animals. 

I never found a dog to be lazy when bringing in wood. All that was 
needed to make him go faster was to call him. We never whipped our 
dogs. It was never necessary to whip one, in my experience, to call him 
was enough. I would ery, “Na’! na’!” “Come! come!” and that was 
enough. 





1F'or a comparative statement of the use of dogs in the Plains see this series, vol. 5, 87, et seq. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 207 


We always kept wood on hand in the lodge and were careful not to 
let the pile become depleted. We went out to collect wood when it was 
convenient. If we had work in the lodge that kept us busy, we might not 
gather wood for five or six days; but if we had plenty of time, we might 
go out every day. This was especially true of the winter, when we burned 
a great deal of wood.! 

We set out, the four dogs following in single file. As they were 
hitched to the travois, they never tried to escape or run away; when we 
stopped they invariably lay down in the road. 

When we reached the timber we cut the wood into lengths two feet 
two inches long and piled it in the road near the dogs.. A load of wood for 
a dog consisted of a double armful or a little more. It was tied down by 
the two pack thongs. Besides the travois loads each woman carried a 
load on her back, the sticks being cut about two feet six inches, the proper 
length for our fireplace. The shorter sticks were made up into loads for 
the travois, because the roads were narrow and the dogs could not turn 
to avoid trees, as the women could. We collected any kind of dry wood; 
gathering it among the trees, on the sandbar, or in fact wherever we 
could find it. The foregoing description of the manner of gathering 
wood is true for any time of the year. 

For the load a woman carried on her back she used a pack strap. 
It had two bands, one going across the shoulders and chest and the other 
across her forehead. We used the forehead band only to rest our shoul- 
ders now and thenforashort time. In that case, we let the shoulder band 
drop and hang loose until we used it again. _ 

I have said that when we came to the woods we piled up our wood, 
cut in lengths of about two feet two inches, in the path near the dogs, who 
meanwhile were lying down quietly awaiting their loads. First, we 
loaded the last dog to arrive, or the one nearest the village. As the dogs 
always traveled in single file and lay down in the path as soon as we 
stopped, the last in line lay in the path on the side nearest the village. 
One of us would approach him, grasp the back of the travois basket, and 
turn the dog around with his head toward the village. Then we loaded 
the travois. In like manner, each of the other dogs was turned with his 
head toward the village. 

In spite of the fact that the sticks were about four inches eHonter, 
the load which a dog dragged contained rather fewer sticks than that 
which the woman bore on her shoulders. The travois poles were cut 

-1One year later the narrator stated:— 


We did not whip a lazy dog as we do a horse that does not go, for we had no lazy dogs. Sometimes 
the women struck a dog that wanted to bite the men. No woman ever carried a,dog whip of any kind. 


208 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


flat at the lower end so as to run smoothly over the ground. In summer, 
a dog travois could not be loaded so heavily as in winter, when it was so 
much easier for the dog to drag it over the snow-covered ground. Of 
course, we gathered wood much less frequently in the summer than in the 
winter. 


On the return from the woods we walked in single file, our loads on 
our backs, my two mothers leading, talking and laughing and telling 
funny stories. The dogs, also in single file, followed us. We never had to 
lead a dog by a thong. If for some reason a dog stopped, it was sufficient 
to call him by name, and the dog would obey and follow. 


When we arrived at home we unloaded our packs and piled them 
with the loads from the travois, just back of the corral in the lodge, or 
where the fire screen met the atuéitz. In the winter village the firewood was 
piled on either side of the door in the forward half of the lodge, sticks being 
driven into the ground to hold the pile in place. The unloaded trawvois 
were sometimes laid against the fire screen, on one side of the door, or 
any other convenient place inside the lodge. 


Wolf-chief adds the following on this subject :— 


When the women went out for wood they sought almost any kind, cottonwood, 
elm, box alder. Diamond willows were an exception because they threw off a great 
many sparks. . 

Three women could load about twenty dogs by noon. The women went about 
one-quarter to one-half or even a mile from camp for wood. A good dog could bring 
in nearly one hundred pounds. One or more women with fifteen or twenty dogs 
could bring in enough wood to last the family a month,! I think, but a family with 
only four or five dogs would have to go out every week. 

If, on the return home, a dog dragging a load of wood had his travois stuck 
between two trees or between a couple of stumps, the women would go back and free 
him and call him on again.? 

The women also used to cut green cottonwoods six or seven inches in diameter, 
and cut off the branches into three-foot lengths for the horses to eat (p. 175). When 
the horses had eaten off the bark, the branches were used for fuel. 





1W olf-chief probably means in summer when not a great deal of fuel was needed. His use of the 
term ‘‘month’’ is often for ‘“‘a long time.’’—G. L. W. 

’ 2 The paths leading in all directions through the timber were beaten hard and smooth as a floor, by 
the constant tread of moccasined feet, and the passage of numerous dog-travées loaded with wood.’’ 
(Boller, ibid., 192.) 

“Then harnessing up some eight or ten dogs to as many travées, they shouldered their axes and led 
the van, followed by the dogs trotting demurely along in single file. Before long, the woods resounded 
with the dull strokes of the axes, mingled constantly with the shrill voices of the women, scolding their 
dogs, who, very naturally, liked to vary the dull routine of every-day life by getting up a little rough-and- 
tumble fight among themselves. When a dog had his full load he was led to the main pathway, and after 
receiving a couple of practical reminders on his head from the axe-handle, to attend to his own business, 
started for his lodge, dragging his travée with great steadiness. Unless caught on some obstruction (in 
which case he patiently awaits his release), he quickly arrives at his destination, and finds some of the 
family ready to relieve him of his load and turn him loose to steal or fight among his brethren for his 
dinner. Several hours later, the squaws are seen coming back in parties, with a retinue of dogs, all 
loaded as heavily as possible.”” (Boller, ibid., 193-194.) 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 209 


Dogs were also used to bring in dry grass or hay for the horses. Hoes were 
taken along; the grass was cut, tied on a travois, and brought home. This was done 
in the winter village. It was very much easier for the travois to run on snow than on 
the bare ground and for this reason travois were used a great deal in the winter. 


COLLECTING Woop FROM THE RIVER. 


As it was nearer to bring wood from the Missouri than to go to the 
timber for it, in the summer time we used to catch floating logs from a 
bull-boat with a noose. My sister or one of my mothers would go with 
me; usually I paddled and she carried the 
noose. If we saw a log floating down the 
river I paddled out to it and my sister 
threw the noose, caught the log, and we 
towed to shore. We piled the wood up 
on the shore. Sometimes we caught 
floating logs with a hook about fifteen 
feet long (Fig. 38). Men and women 
worked together pulling in floating wood 
with these hooks. My father liked to do 
this and sometimes stayed down by the 
river a whole day, pulling in firewood. In 
those days there was a great deal of wood, 
but near Like-a-fish-hook village it was 
rather scarce because we sold so much of 
it to steamboats. The wood collected 
from the river, we afterwards carried up 





the bank on our backs. We thus saved. Rie ee SOLS ia asa 

time. I carried short sticks up in a load a Me aap ae take et cae 

with my packing strap; longer sticks I ye 30 ketch showing & 
bore on my back, as shown in Fig. 39, or how Long Sticks of Wood are 

let one end drag on the ground. carried by Women. 


FETCHING FIREWOOD AND GAME BY BULL-BOAT. 


A good place to gather firewood at Like-a-fish-hook village was in 
the timber about two miles from the village, on either side of the river. 
Sometimes two or three or four women carried bull-boats' with them. 
Sometimes we gathered wood on the side of the river on which the village 
stood; sometimes on the other side. A bull-boat was carried with the 


1For the bull-boat see pp. 248, 253-254 and 271. 


210 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 
mouth pointing backwards and with the bottom resting on the woman’s 
neck, held in place by her pack strap. 

We used to go out in the morning and return in the afternoon or 
evening. The boat was loaded in the water. It was filled to the top 
with sticks cut to fit the size of the boat. Then two sticks were thrust 
vertically in the back of the boat to extend beyond the load and more 
wood was stacked up against these (Fig. 40). A space was left in front 





Fig. 40. . A Bull-Boat loaded with Wood being paddled across the Missouri. 
Fig. 41. Reviving an Unconscious Dog. 

Fig. 42. A Bob-Tailed Dog. 

Fig. 48. Goodbird’s Sketch of a Dog (Took-away-his-shieid). 


for the woman who sat on the bottom of the boat with her feet to the 
right as there was not room enough to kneel. 

If we went for a whole day we took along a lunch of biscuits, bacon, 
and coffee, though in olden times this would have been of buffalo fats 
with whole parched corn carried in a heart skin. 

Once I went hunting with my husband. We took a dog and carried 
a boat on a travois.1. We stayed all night in the woods and returned to 
the village in the evening of the next day. We came back in the bull-boat, 
carrying a doe and two fawns, and the dog, besides ourselves. We 


1F or loading dogs with bull-boats, see pp. 231-232. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 211 


bound our travois to the boat in such a way that the skin saddle of the 
travois was out of the water, but the basket and lower ends of the poles 
dragged in the current. 

We had killed the deer early in the morning. My husband had 
watched for deer the evening of the day we arrived and the next morn- 
ing,—the morning in which the deer were killed. 

It was difficult to carry a boat on one’s back in an adverse wind. 
For this reason in windy weather we preferred to take a dog rather than 
to carry the boat, since a dog was not very high and the wind did not 
strike the boat with the same force as it did if the boat were on a woman’s 
back. 

It was not at all unusual for my husband when going upstream to 
hunt deer to take one of our dogs with a bull-boat on his travois. He 
would then float downstream in the boat with his game as I have 
described. # 

Once Son-of-a-star and Charging-enemy went up the river afoot from 
old Fort Berthold to the upper Knife River. They took a dog with them 
to carry their bull-boat. They hunted in the evening and morning and 
got a great deal of meat which they brought back in the boat. Their 
dog rode with them in the boat on the way back. 


TRAINING A Doa. 


It took about four days to train a dog to drag a travois. At first, 
when he was hitched to the travois and called by name, he struggled and 
whined with fear, but the woman coaxed and called to him, until he 
started toward her. The first three days the woman tied a thong around 
the dog’s neck collar and led him. By the fourth day the dog had learned 
and would follow his owner. For the first trip very little wood was loaded 
on the travois, but the amount was increased from day to day until the 
dog could drag a full load. Some dogs were much stronger than others 
and could earry a much larger load. We always knew which dog to load 
the heaviest. 

Wolf-chief gives the following supplementary data:— 


Sometimes a hungry dog ate so fast that the food stuck in his throat and he fell 
dead. We Indians say he fell dead, but I think you would say that the dog lost 
consciousness or swooned. At such a time the woman would take up the dog and 
bring him down against the ground on his hips as in Fig. 41, alternating with thumps 
of her fists on his backbone just above the hips. In a moment the dog would come 
to life again with a yelp. 

As a dog grew up he was broken to dragging a travois. When a travois and har- 
ness were put on him he whined and tried to squirm away from it. But the woman 


212 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


coaxed and called him and with a string tied to his collar under his throat pulled 
him gently to the timber where she loaded the travois very lightly. The load was 
increased from day to day as the dog learned. 

I never saw a dog bear any burden but a travois and its load, but I have heard 
that a war party once took a dog along that was broken to carry a burden on his back. 
They put a saddle on the dog and bound moccasins and food on it. Perhaps the dog 
guarded the camp from the approach of a wolf or an enemy and was taken along 
for this purpose, but I do not know. 

A dog sometimes fell sick and died. A woman would give him a few blows on his 
legs with a withe and he would come to life again. Dogs gave this power to some 
people in a vision. Dogs had sacred uses; they were used in certain ceremonies. 


NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF OUR DoGs. 


Let us suppose a woman in the old times had a dog she wished to 
have named. In that case she would call upon some man who had won 
honor marks and he would give the dog some such name as Strikes- 
lodge, or, the hike. Sometimes, however, the women in the lodge named 
the dog after some peculiarity he had.? 

When I was about eighteen years old we had five working dogs, the 
largest number we-ever had in our family. They were as follows:— 

Mida-padapa-é-éc, or Feather-lance-carrier, a bitch. She was 
named by Big-cloud for an enemy whom he struck and who carried a 
feathered lance. She belonged to my grandmother, Otter. She was a 
bobtailed black dog with spots. 

Ita-widaka-kaic or Took-away-his-shield, named by Big-cloud; a 
castrated male; belonged to Strikes-many-women; had black spots and a 
tail like a wolf. Goodbird has made a sketch of this dog. (Fig. 48). He 
has shown it to me and it looks very much as the dog looked. I have 
shown him where to draw the spots on his body. 





1This was probably an experience of Wolf-chief’s when visiting the Crow.—G. L. W. PH 

The Crow did not. use the travois very much, while the tribes to the northwest of them seemed not 
to have used it at all. Instead, they used dogs as pack animals. See this series, vol. 21, 220. 

Harmon, Daniel Williams, A Journal of Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America 
(New York, 1903) writes as follows:— 

“Those Indians, who live in a woody country, make no use of horses, but employ their large dogs, to 
assist in carrying their baggage from place to place The loadis placed near their shoulders, and some of 
these dogs, which are accustomed to it, will carry sixty or seventy pounds weight, the distance of twenty- 
five or thirty miles in a day. 

The Assiniboins, Rapid Indians, Black feet and Mandans, together with all the other Indians who 
inhabit a plain country, always perform their journies on horse back.’’ (290.) 

2No doubt the naming of dogs in this definite way was widespread, but escaped observation. See 
however, this series, vol. 21, 221. 

Harmon in writing of Indians in general states that :— 

‘The Indians, throughout the whole country that I have visited, have no other animals domesti- 
cated, excepting the horse and the dog. Of the latter, they have several different species. Some of them 
are very large and strong, and are employed in carrying burdens; while others, which are small, assist 
their masters in the chace. All Indians are very fond of their hunting dogs. The people on the west 
side of the Rocky Mountain, appear to have the same affection for them, that they have for their children; 
and they will discourse with them, as if they were rational beings. They frequently call them their sons 
or daughters; and when describing an Indian, they will speak of him as father of a particular dog which 
belongs to him. When these dogs die, it is not unusual to see their masters or mistresses place them on a 
pile of wood, and burn them in the same manner as they do the dead bodies of their relations; and they 
appear to lament their deaths, by crying and howling, fully as much as if they were their kindred. Not- 
withstanding this affection, however, when they have nothing else with which to purchase articles which 
they want, they will sell their dogs.”’ (289-290.) 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 2NG 


Nuwatsa-kitéc, or One-killed; named by Big-cloud; a cast ated 
male; belonged to Strikes-many-women; white, with black spots; had 
a tail like a wolf. 

Nahi-kutic, or First-killed; named by Big-cloud for an enemy that 
he helped kill; a castrated male; belonged to Red-blossom; White with 
black spots; tail like a wolf. 

Adux4-xitsidic, literally Spot-red; in English we would call the 
dog, Red-spot. He was a castrated male; belonged to Red-blossom. We 
women named this dog from his appearance. He had a tail like a wolf. 

Of these five dogs, the first-named, Feather-lance-carrier, was the 
mother of the other four. 

There were a good many bobtailed dogs in the village, at least 
enough of them to make them common, although they were not as 
numerous as the others.!. There were perhaps about ten bobtailed dogs 
in the village. The bobtailed dog was born so and not made s0 artificially. 
A bobtailed dog or a dog with a tail like a wolf was equally good as a 
worker—it made no difference. My aunt had a bobtailed bitch which 
gave birth to a litter of puppies. I looked over the litter and found one 
that I liked very much and my aunt gave it to me. It was the first born 
of the whole litter, quite a large puppy, and was the only bobtailed puppy 
in the litter. I do not remember how many there were in the whole litter. 
The first-born puppies of a litter were always stronger and better dogs. 

In Fig. 42 ts a good likeness of this bobtailed puppy after it grew up. 
As you see, the tail is short. The dog was all black. 

Wolf-chief gives the following supplementary data on the subject of 
names :— 


Although the women of the household owned the dogs, they did not name them. 
A woman did not name even her own dog, but got her “brother’’ to do it. 

I gave names to two female dogs; one I called Itsi-déca, meaning Foot-none or 
No-foot; the other dog I called Caki-deca, or No-hand. The reason for these names 
is as follows:— 

Once, about in August, at Like-a-fish-hook village, two enemies attacked us. 
We gave chase and killed them both. I was the second to count coup on one of them 
and we found that he had a hand that was small and withered. Therefore, I called 
one dog, No-hand. . 

On another occasion, our people were picking juneberries in the woods when 
they noticed two men on a high hill who were looking toward the village. They told 
the villagers. At night we went out and found these two men attempting to steal a 
pony. We gave chase. One of them turned to fire at me, but his flint did not set fire 
to the powder. The man next to me shot at him and killed him. I reined in my pony 


1No other mention of bobtailed dogs is known to the Editor; hence, it seems likely that this was 
a mixed-breed from trader stock. Such could well have been introduced long before the birth of the 
informant. 


214 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


and scalped the enemy. In the morning we found that this enemy had a full-sized 
moccasin on his right foot, but that he had lost part of the foot itself. Therefore I 
named one dog, No-foot. 

The men who killed these two enemies cut off the right leg of the man who had an 
imperfect foot and took it to the village. They removed the moccasin and showed 
the foot to the people. The villagers could not tell whether it was a man’s foot or not, 
it was of such a strange shape. It looked like a hammer. I could have named the 
dog, Took-a-scalp, from the fact that I scalped the enemy, but we usually named the 
dog from something that we observed about the dead enemy, or from something that 
struck us as humorous. It was because we laughed at this strange foot that I called 
the dog, No-foot. 

My father, Small-ankle, once called a dog, Ita-m&étsi’-da-iada-kutsic, his-knife- 
with-his-own-hair-take. A free translation of this would be, ‘‘took his hair with his 
own knife,” that is, with the dead man’s knife. The dog belonged to us and I re- 
member the circumstances very well. It was my father who scalped an enemy with 
his own knife. 

Once when my father was a member of a war party they came near an enemy 
village and watched in the hills for someone to stray from the village. A man came 
out of the village. My father and his friends shot the man’s horse with a gun; he tried 
to escape, but they overtook and killed him. They found the slain man had his face 
painted black, which was a sign that the villagers were rejoicing over a dead enemy. 
For that reason my father named one of our dogs, Ita-cipfihe-nakapéc, ‘‘his-face- 
black-leader’s-honor-mark.”” The word nakepéc, means the honor mark that belongs 
to a leader who has commanded a war party that killed an enemy. ayers of this 
honor mark some human hair is fastened on the shirt of the leader. 

Another one of our dogs was named Matax’-apihec, from matdzi, turtle, and 
' apé@hes, necklace. Once there was a great battle at the mouth of the Knife River, 
with thousands on each side. One man from the other side rode forward against the 
Hidatsa. Small-ankle leaped from his horse and awaited him. The Sioux, who was 
riding, shot at Small-ankle as he came forward, but since Small-ankle did not retreat 
the Sioux turned to go back to his own men. Small-ankle fired and the Sioux fell. 
The Hidatsa ran forward and cut up the body, for it was our custom at that time to 
scalp an enemy, cut off his hands and feet, and mash in his head bones. The Hidatsa. 
found that the dead enemy had a necklace made of a strip of red cloth with a green 
turtle shell fastened to it. The shell was just a turtle back seraped clean of the flesh. 
The red cloth was drawn through a hole in the shell. Very likely the turtle shell was a 
mystery object. 

Other names! of dogs are as follows: First-strike; ; Last-strike; Caught-with-the- 
hand; Crying-one; Killed-many-enemies; Stabbed; Shot-with-an-arrow; Kiulled- 
by-a-club; Ran-over-him; Brought-an-enemy’s-horse; Took-an-enemy’s-horse; 
Brave-man; Chased-an-enemy; One-enemy-struck; One-enemy-killed; Cut-loose 
(i.e., cut a picketed horse loose); First-to-see-an-enemy; Captured-a-horse-in- 
battle; Dismounted-in-big-battle; Knife-carrier; and He-wept-being-caught-by- 
the-hair. 


We kept one dog in our lodge for breeding: He was quite large, red, 
and his name was Akikahic, or Took-away-from-him. Once in battle, ene- 


1For other dog names, see pp. 231-232. 


ra r 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 215 


mies captured Big-cloud’s horse. He gave chase and recaptured it. For 
this reason he named the dog, Took-away-from-him, in memory of the 
horse he had recaptured. 

Although we had only four working dogs in our family, we often 
had more in the lodge, for there might be one or two dogs too old to 





Fig. 44 





Fig. 44. The Dogs run off to Fight while Goodbird rides on the Travois. 
Fig. 45. Travois Poles, showing Manner of Attaching and Tying. 


work, or young ones we were raising that were not yet old enough to be 
broken to dragging a travois. Four dogs were quite enough for our work; 
but we were always careful to have young dogs growing up to take the 
place of the old ones whenever they were needed. One of our dogs lived 


216 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


to be about twelve years old. When a dog grew too old to work we kept 
him in the lodge without working. When he died, his body was thrown 
into the river or far away in the woods. We never shot an old worn-out 
dog, that I remember. 


CHILDREN RIDE ON A Doc TRAVOIS. 


Small boys sometimes jumped on a dog travois to ride just for the 
fun of it. Once J asked my husband to go for wood with me to the timber 
east.of the village. I had three dogs and travois. My son, Goodbird, 
who was then four or five years old, wanted to go along. My husband 
and I said, ‘‘No, you cannot go.’’ Goodbird wept and wept, so at last 
we took him with us. As we went along, my little son jumped on and 
off the travois, walking and riding, and playing with the dogs. The dogs 
got into a fight and ran off with my little son. He was much frightened 
and we laugh about it to this day. 

Goodbird :-— 


I remember that. There was a road down to the timber and another road that 
led to the chokecherry hills crossed it. We were going along the latter, my father 
and mother walking ahead, when a woman came down the first road on her way to the 
village. She had two or three dogs with travois. Fig. 44 shows the relative positions 
of our two parties. Our dogs saw the others and started across the triangle that lay 
between the two roads. The other dogs also turned toward ours barking. I 
yelled, ‘‘ Az, ai, at!’’ I was dreadfully frightened; the dogs were leaping along at 
such a rate that I was afraid to jump off. The other woman ran between the dogs with 
her arms up in the air. ‘Na’! na’!” she cried. ‘Go away! Go away!” That 
stopped our dogs. I jumped off the travois and ran to my mother. I did not want to 
ride on that travois again! . 

We never put small children tied in their cradle bundles on the 
travois because the dogs lie down often, indeed, every time the march 
stops. It was common, however, to ride a few miles on a horse travois to 
rest oneself. Sometimes a boy or girl or perhaps both were permitted 
to ride on top of the load on a horse travois. At times a bull-boat, mouth 
up, was bound to a horse travois. We often put a boy or girl old enough 
to run about, but not old enough to be very strong, in the bull-boat, but a 
baby was always carried and cared for by the mother. We would not 
have risked putting a baby in a bull-boat unless the mother was with it. 


Maxine A Doc Travots.! 


When I needed a new dog travois frame I made it of two long cotton- 
wood poles or of poplar (birch?). This last has a white bark with leaves 


iSee pp. 281-283. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 217 
similar to, but smaller than, cottonwood. It is very light and for that 
reason valuable for a travois. 


We always kept new travois poles on hand. My father cut the green 
poles in the timber, peeled off the bark, and laid them on the corn-drying 


Fig 47 


Fig. 48 









rear & 
yr 
N 
bee ' 
\ V 
mM 
= 
fo 


( 
i 
NS 







Fig.50 


Fig. 46. Measuring the Pole which is to form the Rim of the Travois Basket. 

Fig. 47. Looped Bundle of Rawhide Thong prepared for Netting Travois Basket. 

Fig. 48. The Rim of the Travois Basket held in Shape, for drying, by a Rawhide 
Thong.. 


Fig. 49. The Completed Travois Basket. 
Fig. 50. The Tie for securing the Load to the Travois Basket. 


stage to dry. They were always dried thoroughly before binding them 
together to make a frame. The poles of a travois frame had to be re- 
placed about every two years, but the basket and its woven cushion were 
merely transferred to the new travois. | 

The travois frame poles were usually about one and one-quarter 
inches in diameter at the upper ends and increased to about one and three- 


218 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


quarter inches at the lower ends which were cut flat so they could rest 
on the ground like runners. The best travois poles were a little curved 
and were so bound together that the curve arched upward so that the 
basket was carried on the top of the arch. The weight of the loads tended 
to bear the poles down so that if a travois were made of new, straight 
poles, it was not long before the frame sagged out of shape. The travois 
frames built to arch upward a little, were only straightened by the 
basket weight and therefore lasted much longer. For this reason, when 
we went out to cut travois poles we were careful to search for young 
trees that were slightly bent. 


To make a new travois frame, I notched two poles at the upper or 
smaller ends, tying them firmly with ztsita' tendon of the buffalo. There 
were two of these tendons, one lying on either side of the neck vertebre. 
One of these was cut into strips about three-eighths of aninch wide. The 
green tendon was drawn around the poles three times and tied. When it 
dried it held the poles firmly together. A green rawhide did not make a 
very good tie as it was apt to loosen as it dried. As will be seen in Fig. 45, 
a transverse notch was cut across the upper and lower pole to receive the 
tendon. Fig. 45A shows the two poles ready to be joined. In Fig. 45B 
the poles are joined with the transverse notch on the upper pole, while in 
Fig. 45C the two poles are bound together by the ztséita tendon. In Fig. 
45D the ends of the two poles are viewed from different sides. The stumps 
of the joint in Fig. 45C (a and b) were very short, only a couple of inches 
long. | 

I cut the green ash pole for the basket hoop in the timber myself. 
I cut a pole tall enough to reach to my shoulder when standing (Fig. 
46) and about five-eighths of an inch in diameter. In the figure drawn 
by Goodbird (Fig. 46) the section of pole above my hand is to be cut off. 
I am measuring on the pole with my palm, the place where it is to be cut. 


After cutting the pole, I tested it, bending it under my foot to see if 
it was tough and elastic. At home I heated it over a fire, passing it back 
and forth over the coals to keep it from burning. When it was well 
heated, I bent it under my feet, moving it around and treading on it to 
make it pliable. I shaved down the heavier end for the joint, bent the 
pole to form an oval, and tied it with thong. As the bark formed a pro- 
tection against breaking while heating and making the pole pliable, it 
was not peeled off until the hoop was bent into shape. Then a rawhide 
thong was tied across the center of the hoop to make it hold its shape 


1The tendon that holds up the head and neck of the buffalo. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 219 


while it dried (Fig. 48). It was now left on the drying pole in the earth- 
lodge, near or over the fire, for three or four days. I always hung it just 
a little way from the chain on which the pot was hung. 

Then I soaked a dry rawhide with the hair scraped off, either in a 
pail of water or in the broth made by boiling dried meat. The broth had 
to be tepid; if too warm, the hide would spoil. We saved this meat broth 
to drink. When the hide was well soaked and softened, I took it to my 
father, Small-ankle, to be cut. To do this, he cut the corners round, and 
then cut a spiral toward the center, resulting in a long thong about three- 
eighths of an inch wide, which he colored red by drawing the thong 
through the palm of his hand in which he held some moistened red paint, 
such as we obtained in the hills. It was arule that all our travois baskets 
be red, though I do not know why. After cutting the thong, Small-ankle 
tied one end to the basket hoop and looped the rest into a bundle tied 
with a strip of hide (Fig. 47). As he wove the thong back and forth on the 
frame (Fig. 49), the looped bundle (Fig. 47) unraveled loop by loop with- 
out tangling or knotting. 

Fig. 49 is drawn from a small model I have made, but the principle 
of the weave and the pattern hold for the full-sized travois basket. In 
the small model sections between the thong are one-half an inch in 
diameter; in the full-sized model they average roughly one and one half 
inches. This type of weave is used both for the dog travois and the 
hoop game basket; that for the horse travois basket is different. 

When Small-ankle finished weaving the basket, I hung it to one of 
the posts of the corn-drying scaffold by a string. The wet thongs dried in 
about a day. Then I bound the basket to the travois poles with thongs of 
tent skin at the four places where the basket crossed the poles. It will 
be noted (Fig. 49) that the joint of the basket hoop always lies upper- 
most. This was always true of the dog travois basket. On the horse 
travois, however, the basket might have a joint on either side, either on the 
side toward the top or the bottom of the frame. On neither a dog nor a 
horse travois was the joint placed on the sides of the basket where it was 
bound to the travois poles. | 

A dog travois was in almost daily use, while the horse travois was 
used less frequently. We regarded the horse travois as having been 
recently introduced into our tribe, but we had the dog travois from very 
old times. 

After the travois frame was completed and the basket bound on, I 
put on the buffalo skin saddle, or cushion, to protect the dog’s back and 
shoulders from the hard poles. This was made of buffalo skin, hair side 


220 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


out, and was sewed on so that the seam was uppermost and the smooth 
fur rested on the dog’s shoulders.. Then I sewed on the two oiled rawhide 
loops, one longitudinally and the other transversely with the poles. Then 
I fastened on two rawhide packing’thongs. The breast band and neck 
collar were also of rawhide. 

A load should be bound to the lower edge of the basket with the two 
packing thongs mentioned above. Each thong should be tied on its 
proper side, to the lower edge of the basket at the same place that the 
basket is tied to its pole. The packing thongs should be made to pass 
around both the pole and the basket hoop (Fig. 50). 

Sometimes women made their own travois baskets. When they did, 
they painted the baskets red. We also painted the hoop for the hoop 
game red. We used red a great deal for decoration. I never saw new, 
unpainted, dog travois baskets; they were always painted red, as were 
also the game hoops. Horse travois were unpainted. 

I never knew of dogs being used to drag sledges or anything like a 
sledge, such as a boy’s buffalo rib slider or a buffalo skin laid down on the 
snow and hitched to a dog. As far as I know, we had no such customs. 

We ceased to use dog travois about thirty-four years ago when we 
obtained wagons from the Government (about 1879). At about the 
same time horse travois passed out of use. Fifteen wagons were issued 
the first summer and fifteen the next summer. Pretty soon everyone in 
the village used them. We often borrowed wagons, one from another. 

Wolf-chief adds :— 

Usually, the travois, when not in use, were leaned against the entrance way to 
the lodge or against its side. They were stacked one against the other like folding 
chairs, but if there were too many for one pile, the stacks were separated. 

In order to carry the loads travois had baskets with skin lacings, usually painted 
red, bound to the poles. These baskets were about 36 inches long and 25 inches wide. 
These baskets were woven only by skilled persons who were paid for their labor. 
Small-ankle was very skilful in weaving these baskets. The men also wove snowshoes 
and game hoops. The red-painted thongs for the basket lacings signified that the 
weaver had obtained an honor mark for striking an enemy. For example, Small-ankle, 
who had been a successful leader of war parties, had the privilege of painting his face 
red as asymbol of joy. Thus, if a woman whose husband had never been to war should 
come to Small-ankle to have her travois basket woven he had the privilege of painting 
it red because of his war record. The red paint on the basket always referred to the 
deeds of the weaver and not the owner. There were, however, unpainted travois 
baskets in the village because the maker had no honor marks. My father, Small- 
ankle, told me this and taught me how to make a travois, but I am not very good at it. 

My father did not think it a very important matter to make a travois basket as 
it was not sacred. Besides, he had an opportunity to paint it red and he knew the 
woman would be sure to show the travois to others in the village so that he would be 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 221 


t 


raised high in the esteem of the people. Because of this it was not thought necessary 
to make any payment for the making of a travois basket, though a small gift was 
very often offered. However, when the duty to be performed was a sacred matter, 
a good price was offered, as for instance, when my sister, Buffalo-bird-woman,.was 
called in to put up the four central posts of an earth-lodge or to cut the skins for a tent 
cover, and prayed while doing so. 

The lacings of a travois basket were made of the skin of a buffalo bull, taken from 
the belly and legs, where the skin is always thin. The skin of the back and neck of a 
buffalo is too thick for this purpose. Sometimes green hide was used; sometimes a 
dry rawhide was softened by soaking, cut into strips, and used. A dressed hide would 
sag soft if it became wet. The object of the weave was to have a good spring to the 
basket. 

The woman, or her husband if she had one, who desired the travois, furnished all 
the materials. The two poles were of cottonwood and the basket hoop of ash. If the 
woman did not know how to make the hoop, she brought it to the maker. If she did 
know how, she bent and braced the hoop into shape while her husband held it. Asa 
rule, the woman prepared the hoop and left the weaving to the maker. She and her 
~ husband prepared the hide for the lacings, but left their cutting to the weaver. Some- 
times, instead of taking the material to the weaver’s lodge, she might call him to her 
lodge. 

The travois saddle was made of skin from the shoulders and neck of the buffalo 
where the hair is thickest. It was not stuffed with hair inside. The joint of the poles 
was firmly bound with buffalo neck sinews that are strong and heavy and the skin 
saddle was then sewed on with buckskin thongs. The saddle was made by the owner. 
The harness was made and put on by the woman. 

A dog travois was about eight feet long. The flat part of the travois poles that 
dragged on the ground was about eighteen inches long. 


Dog TrRAvois SHELTER TENT. 


When my son, Goodbird, was about seven years old, word came to 
the village that chicken-pox was coming. The Agency people said, 
‘““Chicken-pox is going to come here. We think it best for the people to go 
away and not come near the Missouri River for a while. The Arikara. 
who live farther down the river have the chicken-pox and we think that 
it will be brought up the river to this village.”’ All our people were made 
quite uneasy by the news. We knew that chicken-pox was not as danger- 
ous as smallpox, but either disease was bad enough. | 

It was juneberry time and our whole village packed up and went 
north and camped. As I have said, the Agency people warned us to 
keep away from the Missouri River for fear that chicken-pox might be 
brought to us by travelers who came up the river. As out in our country 
timber grows only along the rivers, our camp, pitched away from the 
Missouri, was at a place where we found not very much timber, and 
what we did find was small size and scant. Because of this we could 





Fig. 51. Frame for Shelter made by setting up Three 
Dog Travois and adding Several Extra Poles. 

Fig. 52. The Shelter with Flaps closed for the Night. 

Fig. 53. The Shelter with Flaps raised to allow Cir- 
culation of Air. 


222 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 223 


not conveniently find tent poles. We were able to find a few forked sticks 
here and there and some small wood which we cut. Our camping family 
was rather large; there were eleven of us in our tent. 

We were able, however, to make a tent, or perhaps I should say, 
shelter, with our dog travois. Three travois were stood up about five 
feet apart in a line and each propped at the top against a forked stick, 
bound securely to it. Thus each travois and its forked stick support 
made a tripod. A railing ran along the tops of the three tripods and a 









“Utoqluissy 
MOT SOIT] 
21729 Pey 
HedH -11Ng 





USMWOM 





Door on this Side 


Fig. 55 


Fig. 54. Rear of Shelter Tent with Excess of Cover weighted down with a Stone. 
Fig. 55. Interior Sleeping Arrangements in Travois Shelter Tent. 


second railing ran along the sides just above the baskets. All the baskets 
of the travois lay toward the weather side of the frame. At each end of 
this frame two extra poles were bound, one to the travois, the other to 
the forked stick support. These extra poles were to give the tent a 
rounded form at the top. 

Over the frame thus made (Fig. 51) we stretched a tent skin. In Fig. 
52 is shown the tent as it looked at night when closed. In the daytime 
an entrance was made by raising the two smoke flaps and binding them 
with thongs to the tops of two sticks to prop them open (Fig. 53). These 
smoke flaps were propped open all day to give air. The rear of the tent is 
shown in Fig. 54. As the bottom of the tent was round, this left a rather 


224 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


large margin which lay on the ground Fig. (54a) weighted down with a 
small log or stone. The floor of the tent was made of tent skins. 


There were five beds. Beginning at the left (reckoning Indian 
fashion) was the bed of my husband, myself, and Goodbird. Although 
seven years of age, Goodbird still fed at my breast. The second bed 
toward the right was that of Full-house, Red-kettle, and Flies-low. I 
have forgotten in what order they slept. As will be noted in the diagram 
(Fig. 55) Goodbird slept nearest the end of the tent in our bed. My place 
was in the middle and Son-of-a-star slept on the right. The third bed, 
passing toward the right, was that of Charging-enemy and his wife, 
Assiniboin-woman. It will be noticed that Charging-enemy slept on the 
left and his wife on the right. The next bed was that of Small-ankle and 
Strikes-many-women. Red-blossom was last. In Fig. 55 are shown the 
relative positions of the beds and the position of each sleeper, as I re- 
member them. 


We had driven from Like-a-fish-hook village in a wagon and there 
were a number of other wagons in camp. Quite a number of the families 
had erected tipis. While we were camped here, a terrific storm of rain 
and wind came up, so severe that many tipis were blown down and wagons 
were overturned; but our shelter withstood the storm safely. During 
the worst of the wind, we held the frame firmly, the better to withstand 
the wind. Small-ankle and his two wives grasped the first travois on the 
right; Charging-enemy and his wife held the middle travois; and my 
husband and myself held the travois on the extreme left of the frame. 
In this way we prevented the tent from being blown over. 

Goodbird interrupting :-— 

I remember that tent very well. I was seven years old at the time and I re- 
member it because of its unusual form. Figs. 52 and 53 are correct, because I re- 
member how that tent was put yp. It was an unusual form, but it made a very good 
shelter for us in that camp. 

My husband, Son-of-a-star, once told me of another way to make a 
tent out of dog travois. Three travois were joined together at their 
tops and a piece of tent skin drawn around the frame thus made. Two 
persons could be accommodated very well in such a shelter. I myself 
never saw such a tent, but my husband had. Fig. 57 represents the frame 
of such a shelter drawn by Goodbird after my husband’s description. 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 225 


ADDITIONAL INFORMATION CONCERNING Doas. 
(Narrative of Wolf-chief.) 
DRAGGING TENT POLES. 


Before a dog was made to drag tent poles, a light load of something 
that was not fragile, like a robe or a few blankets, was bound down over 
the travois and then the travois was harnessed to the dog. As dragging 
tent poles was heavy work a good strong dog was chosen, perhaps one 
called Short-tail or. Four-eyes from his looks. The poles, ten, twelve, or 
thirteen in number, were strung together by a thong through holes 
pierced at their smaller ends. Then the tent poles were fastened at, or 
near, the fork, the smaller ends of the tent poles projecting about two 
feet beyond the dog’s head. The tent poles were then spread out over 
the travois basket and bound down. A big tent might have poles six 
paces long. Such poles, when bound to the dog travois, might extend 
three feet beyond the dog’s head (Fig. 56).! | 


CARRYING WATER FOR DOGS. 


There was a warm weather custom of carrying water for a dog in a 
buffalo paunch. A piece of a skin tent, two and one-half to three feet in 
diameter, was laid flat on the travois basket, and some grass spread over 
it. A buffalo paunch was filled with water, the mouth skewered with a 
stick, and tied with a buckskin thong (Fig. 58). Then the water-filled 
paunch was placed on the grass-covered tent skin with the mouth of the 
paunch upward and the whole was tied with rawhide thongs. | 

When the dog became thirsty on the road, the woman untied the 
paunch and held the mouth open while the dog lapped up the water. If 
there was more than one dog, they were allowed to lap one after another. 
If there was any water left when they had all quenched their thirst, the 
paunch was tied up again. Otherwise, the paunch was kept and filled 
up again at the next opportunity. 

Dogs dragging heavy loads could not go very far without water. 
When five or six dogs were taken out, perhaps two of them might carry 
buffalo paunches filled with water. 

In winter, if water was ever needed by a party on the road, snow 
was melted with hot stones. A hole was dug in the ground and a green 
hide or a buffalo paunch spread in it; snow was shoveled into the hide 
_ and hot stones placed on it. I do not mean that in the winter a party 








1This account by Wolf-chief and the diagram, needs some corroboration. Throughout his entire 

account, Wolf-chief shows himself familiar chiefly with generalities, while Buffalo-bird-woman gives 

Rone in careful detail. I have elsewhere made a few observations concerning the two accounts.— 
aloe Wi 


226 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


a) 
i R 


as 












Fig. 56. Diagrammatic Sketch showing Dog dragging Tent Poles 
lashed to the Fork of the Travois. 

Fig. 57. Three Travois set up to form a Tent Frame. 

Fig. 58. <A Buffalo Paunch filled with Water, tied with a Buckskin 
Thong, and skewered with a Stick. 


would stop and melt snow so their dogs could have water, but merely 
that if water were needed while on the road it was the custom to melt 
snow in this way. 


BRINGING IN MEAT BY TRAVOIS. 


Because dogs required a good deal of water in the summer they were 
not used so frequently for bringing in meat in the summer months as 
they were during the winter, when they could quench their thirst with 
snow. During the summer they suffered a good deal if they had to drag 
loads a long distance without water. In going uphill in winter a dog 
frequently lay down on his’ belly and bit off the snow which balled be- 
tween his toes. At such a time the owner would wait and when she 
thought the dog had had sufficient time to rest, she called and the dog — 
would follow. The dogs followed the owner in single file. If one got 
tired and stopped, all the others stopped too. After a wait, the owner 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 224 


would call out and the dogs would resume the march. When the owner 
stopped all the dogs lay down to rest, not upon their sides, but upon their 
bellies. 

When a man killed buffalo in the hills in the winter he usually 
brought home some of the meat when he returned. The next day, he and 
his wife went out with the dogs and travois and brought in the rest of the 
meat and the bones. The killing may have been as many as seven miles 
away, but such a distance was no hardship to the dogs as the travois 
dragged easily on the crust of snow always found on our prairies. 

When the dogs came to the butchering place they did not struggle 
to get at the meat. ‘Lie down!” the owner would say, and the dogs 
obeyed. They were not fed much at the butchering place, for if a dog 
was allowed to gorge himself he would vomit it up on the way home. If 
they were hungry, they might be given a very little to eat. 

On the way home, the dogs might be fed two or three times. They 
were not given very much, only a little piece to each dog, for fear that 
the dog would vomit and get heavy on his feet and break through the 
snow crust. When they arrived home, the dogs were given all they 
wanted to eat. 

When the train came to the village, the other dogs of aw village 
did not trouble them. ‘The travois were unloaded and the dogs fed. 
They were given either cooked or raw meat; if the latter, some of the 
tough parts that were not much desired. The dogs ate eagerly, for they 
were big eaters. There was no danger of their getting sick, now that the 
haul was over. All the family, men and women alike, came out of the 
lodge door, unloaded the dogs and took the meat inside. 3 

The meat was unloaded just outside the earth-lodge door. Then the 
travois was taken off each dog, usually by the owner or someone else in 
the family. The women attended to this part of the work, but the men 
helped carry in the meat. 

In loading the travois, the meat was laid, raw and uncovered, on the 
basket and merely bound down with rawhide rope. No skin was laid 
over it to protect it. The dogs were too well-trained to try to eat meat 
from the travois in front. Perhaps a newly broken dog would, but no 
other. 

A load for one dog was one- quarter of a buffalo, that is, an Indian 
quarter, cut off from the backbone. The hide oie weighed about 
eighty pounds might make a load for a dog. 

When we Indians butchered, quite a strip of the flesh was taken off 
the outside of the ham because it was tough. The remaining parts, 


228 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


together with the bones, weighed perhaps one hundred pounds. Such a 
piece made a load for a dog. A rawhide rope went back and forth over 
the travois basket to hold on the load. 

I have heard some people say that they have known of one dog 
that brought in half of a buffalo; but this dog took sick and died after- 
ward from the effect of the haul. I doubt this story because half of a 
buffalo makes a very heavy load and I do not think that any dog would 
be strong enough to drag it. 

It took about three or four hours for dogs to bring home loads from 
a butchering place seven miles away. The pace was not fast. On the 
way to the butchering place the men and women hurried, running and 
walking alternately, but on the return the pace was slower. When re- 
turning from the butchering place the men and women did not pack meat 
on their own backs, but they might take horses with them. A whole 
buffalo carcass could be loaded on a horse and the owner could still ride. 

The travois baskets were not cleaned or washed after they were 
brought in. They were just allowed to dry. Our dogs never chewed the 
travois baskets. If strange dogs came near, the dogs of the household 
would chase them away. 


THE LEADER. 


We had a good dog in our family named Face-painted-black. I do 
not remember things very plainly as I was a boy then, but I am pretty 
sure that Face-painted-black was the leader of the dogs of our household. 
I recollect that when the women of the lodge started out they would 
often call him first and then one or two others and that they did not call 
the whole pack. 

In every dog pack there was one strong, stout-limbed, reliable dog 
that was called first, as the leader. At least, I think this is the case from 
recollections which I have of things in my own family. I cannot affirm 
positively that this was so in every household, but I am pretty sure that 
in our dog pack we always recognized one particular dog as the leader. 


SIGNALS FOR CALLING DOGS. 


Mr. Wilson has shown me how he used to call birds when he was a 
boy, by wetting the back of his hand and sucking it with his lips, making 
a kind of whistling or whinnying noise. We used to call a small puppy in 
somewhat the same way. The lips were pressed together not so much 
into a round shape as into a flat or oval shape and the air sucked into the 
mouth made much the same kind of whinnying or whistling noise. This 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 229 


noise was made in rapid succession two or three times and followed by a 
succession of clucking sounds made by doubling the tongue downward in 
the mouth and drawing it rapidly back and forth against the lower lip, 
with the mouth partly open, making what you call a kind of half cluck. 


SELECTING DOGS. 


Both male and female dogs were killed if they were surly in disposi- 
tion or if they were ‘“‘digging-lodge”’ dogs. A “digger’’ was killed just 
as soon as it was discovered he was developing the habit, for we knew that 
if a dog dug outside at the foot of the lodge roof, some member of the 
household was going to die (p. 198). We also killed an “eater” that is, 
a dog that ate meat from the drying stages, because we feared that such 
a dog might “eat up” families. I mean that we feared to let such a dog 
live lest it be a sign that the family would be ‘‘eaten up”’ or destroyed by 
enemies. 

At night, if a dog howled alone, and not at the regular times with 
the others, we thought it a sign that he was sorry for something that was 
about to happen in the household. 

Of a dog with an out-bulging forehead that was surly and mean and 
bit people, it was said, ‘“’That dog bit someone in that family. It is a 
sign that someone in the family is going to die.” 

The dogs of our enemies, the Sioux, were wild and surly. If stran- 
gers came near them they barked very much. We feared these wild dogs 
and if we wanted to approach to attack a Sioux camp, we usually planned 
to do so before daylight, when everyone, even the dogs, slept. Our dogs 
were better trained and were not so wild. Those of the Sioux were, I 
think, very much like the Sioux themselves. They were always traveling 
about and because of this had slim legs; but it was only in the slimness 
of their legs that they differed in appearance from our dogs; otherwise, 
they were very much alike. 

A dog two or three years old had acquired his proper strength and 
was old enough for work. Those that developed surly dispositions were 
shot. Often a bitch would be very surly and cross before her puppies 
were born, then the people would say, ‘‘That bitch will give birth to 
many male dogs.” We also thought if a mare was savage before the 
birth of the colt that it would be a male. 

To make a dog gentle the woman owner would take up the puppy, 
spit in its face, and gently rub the saliva over its head and say, “I want 
to bring this dog up to be gentle.” 

At night, when the dogs barked and whined the people would say, 
“Ghosts are around. The dogs are talking with them. They can see 


230 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.  [Vol. XV, 


ghosts with their eyes.”” Whenever they made a whining noise we said 
that they were talking with ghosts.' 

Dogs in our tribe were never taught to help in hunting? nor were they 
ever taught to help in herding or driving in horses. 

We did not keep our dog skins nor use them for tanning. If a dog 
died we just threw the body away. 

During sacred ceremonies dogs were kept outside of the lodge as it. 
was thought unlucky to allow them to be present. If one came in the 
people would say, ‘‘ Drive that dog out!’ and would throw sticks at it 
and drive it out. 

No dog was ever allowed near a fishing trap lest it eat the dead 
animal used for bait. I do not know of any special rule forbidding dogs 
to come near the fishing trap, but we just thought that no one should 
take a dog to a fishing trap. A dead dog was never used to bait a fishing 
trap. 

In 1914 Buffalo-bird-woman gave the following:— 


Ordinarily, dogs were not eaten, partly because the dog was a sacred animal, and 
again because the flesh was not good; for dogs fed on carrion and human ordure. 
Our people did not eat dogs until about forty years ago, when we learned the custom 
from other tribes, I think the Santee Sioux, who gave us the grass dance. It was the 
rule that we should eat dogs when we danced the grass dance.* 

We also knew that all male animals, like the deer and buffalo, were not very 
good to eat in the breeding season. The flesh then tasted different from what it does 
at other seasons of the year. 





1Lewis, writing in the Mandan country, states:— 

. . ‘‘near the (burial) scaffold I saw the carcase of a large dog not yet decayed, which I supposed 
had been killed at the time the human body was left on the scaffold; this was no doubt the reward, 
which the poor doog had met with for performing the (blank space in Ms. ,) friendly office to his mistres of 
transporting her corps to the place of deposit. it is customary with the Assiniboins, Mandans, Minetares 
etc., who scaffold their dead, to sacrefice the favorite horses and doggs, of their disceased relations, with 
a view of.their being servicable to them in the land of sperits.’’ (Lewis and Clark, ibid., vol. 1, 323.) 

2In his account of Mandan hunting methods, Maximilian remarks:—‘“ Dogs are not employed in 
hunting by the Mandans and Manitaries.’”’ (vol. 2, 346.) 

Yet of the Arikara we read:— 

‘“‘Tt may be here remarked, that horses and dogs are the only animals which the Indians domesticate: 
of the latter they have two varieties, one of these they employ in hunting; the other appears to be of a 
stupid and lazy nature, always remaining about the village, and employed as mentioned above.’’ 
(Bradbury, ibid., 119.) 

3See this series, vol. 5, 44. 

4“°The Indians frequently eat the flesh of the dog; . . . These dogs are small; and in shape, very 
much resemble the wolf. The large dogs are of a different breed, and their flesh always has a rank taste; 
but this is never the case with the small kind.’’ (Harmon, 7bid., 281.) 


A HUNT MADE AFOOT WITH DOGS. 


The place of the dog in Hidatsa culture may be concretely presented 
by adding a specific narrative of a hunting trip on which dogs alone were 
used. Though this hunt occurred about 1870, it can, with due allowance, 
be taken as typical of prehistoric days, before the horse and the gun were 
known. The narrative that follows is by Buffalo-bird-woman and was 
related in August, 1913. 

The Hunting Party. After I married Son-of-a-star, but before Good- 
bird was born (I was about twenty-nine or thirty years old) I went ona 
hunt up the Missouri River. We started in the spring, about the last of 
March, or the first of April. There were six men and their wives in the 
party: Crow-flies-high and Oke-wiac, or, Head-plume-woman, his 
wife; Bad-brave and Sioux-woman, his wife; High-back-bone and Blos- 





Fig. 59. Diagram to show how a Bull-Boat was lashed to a Dog 
Travois. The boat is represented lying mouth upward, with the 
travois laid across its mouth. At 1, 4, and 5, short thongs bind 
the travois poles to the boat ribs close to the rim. At2and3, 
longer thongs fasten the poles to ribs in the bottom of the boat. The 
boat is then turned over as in Fig. 60. 

Fig. 60. Dog carrying a Bull-Boat as a Travois Load. 


som, his wife; Long-bear and his wife, an Assiniboin woman whose name 
I have forgotten; Idu-tsa-tsa-hic, a Dakota, and Bird-woman, his wife. 
The Dakota Indian’s name is a Mandan word, meaning “scar.” My 
husband and I completed the party. 

As the horses were not in condition to stand the strain of travel over 
the soft and muddy ground and the swollen rivers and creeks, we went 
without them and carried our baggage on dog travois. 

I had three dogs: The first Naaka-kidukic, or Packs-her-baby, was 
a castrated male, a large, long-tailed, black dog so named by my father, 
Small-ankle, who in battle had once struck a woman who carried a 
baby on her back. On this dog was loaded a bull-boat tied over the 


231 


232 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


travois basket with one edge resting upon the travois saddle. A spe- 
cial thong, or rawhide rope, was tied around the place where the travois 
poles met, and drawn double to the top of the boat. At this point, the 
bull-boat paddle was made fast in a knot, then the thongs were parted, 
each end descended over the boat and was tied to the travois poles be- 
hind. At the forward end of the boat, two thongs were made fast to a 
rib on either side of the frame and descending, were lashed to the travois 
poles as shown in Fig. 59. The boat strapped to the dog’s back is 
shown in Fig. 60. 

My second dog, named Méé’tsi-kudaec, or Knifenaree was a 
castrated male, black, long-tailed, the brother of Packs-her-baby. He 
was named Knife-carrier by Small-ankle because one timein battle a 
man with a knife in his hand pursued the Hidatsa and was shot and 
killed by Small-ankle. Knife-carrier carried two half tent covers on his 
travols. 

My third dog, Maada-nttsic, or Took-a-scalp, was also a castrated 
male, white with large black spots. He carried two half buffalo robes for 
bedding, three pairs of moccasins for myself, five for my husband, an ax, 
a tin pail, a tin cup, and a toothed gun-barrel flesher. As pillows were 
too bulky to carry, we left them behind; besides, if needed, we could 
make one by heaping up some dry grass and covering it with a robe or 
blanket. 

The other members of our party took the following dogs with 
them :— 

Head-plume-woman, two dogs; Stoux-woman, two dogs; Blossom, 
two dogs; the Assiniboin woman, three dogs; Bird-woman had no dog 
and packed her baggage on her back. The rest of us who had dogs car- 
ried no bundles. 

As Blossom and Head-plume-woman each had one bull-boat, we 

carried three altogether. Each bull-boat was bound, mouth down, upon a 
dog travois, as I have already described. 

The men carried their guns, but no bows nor arrows; only mroantea 
hunters used arrows for killing buffalo at this time. Deer and antelope 
were shot with guns only; but my father told me he once killed a deer 
with an arrow, and another Indian, named Fire-above, I remember, also 
killed a deer with an arrow. 

Dress. On the hunt, my husband, Son-of-a-star, wore buffalo skin 
moccasins with the fur inside. To reinforce the outer sole, a second sole 
of tent skin was sewed to it; ankle flaps, also of tent skin were sewed to 
the tops of these moccasins which were for winter use. As they were to be 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 233 


used in hunting, these moccasins were unornamented. The lacing strings 
were of buckskin. In Fig. 61 is a sketch of the moccasin made under 
my direction by my son, Goodbird. Fig. 62 presents the moccasin pat- 
tern. In the old days, we did not make the modern heavy-soled moccasin 
which I think we learned to make more recently from the Sioux. 







Fig. 62 


Tail Ingerted piece 


’ Bitof hair-side 
- turned out. 





Coe: Fringe - little 
Sims = Tite le hoofs 
4 Balu Clinging on. 





. Fringe, of skin of 
“leg with | Diath hair 


‘Fig. 61. Type of Unornamented Moccasin worn on the Hunt in Winter. 
Fig. 62. Moccasin Pattern. 

Fig. 63. Coat worn by Son-of-a-star, during the Hunt Afoot. 

Fig. 64. A Rocky Mountain Sheepskin Dress decorated with Elkteeth. 


My husband’s leggings were of old tent skins. They had no fringe, 
but were sewed down the side with a three-inch edge, with short buck- 
skin thongs at close intervals. In old times we wore the same leggings in 
summer and winter. As my husband’s leggings were for use in hunting, 
they were unornamented. | 

Son-of-a-star wore his shirt of plain white sheeting outside of his 
buckled leather belt of white man’s make. His clout was of blue cloth 
with a white edge. He wore a buckskin overcoat which I made of three 
deerskins and measured after a soldier’s overcoat. On the breast and’ 


234 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


back I ornamented it with beadwork, in duplicate patterns which were 
duplicated on the back, and placed beaded bands around the wrists. It 
had pockets on each side. Fig. 63 shows a pattern of the coat and the 
beadwork. Over this coat, Son-of-a-star wore his belted buffalo robe. 
This second belt was an ammunition belt full of forty-four Winchester 
shells. The robe was worn with the fur inside and the head of the robe 
on the left and the tail on the right. In putting on the robe, one measured 
by drawing it up so that it covered the head. Then the legs were spread 
wide apart and the robe folded, right 
side first, over the front of the body. 
The left side was then folded over and 
the belt drawn around the middle. 
The reason for spreading the legs 
FG apart was to make sure that when the 
Fig. 66 robe was belted about the body, the 
skirt would be wide enough to walk 
to ahd Notahas cutoue ae Sneiiemen a ee eer: pitiiaarc ook 
to make it more Symmetrical. carried on his left arm. f 
Fig. 66. Front and Rear Views A good robe had a piece cut out 
to show Proper Method of wearing of each shoulder and was then sewed 
a Buffalo Robe. | up again to make it more symme- 
| trical (Fig. 65). The skin of a two- 
year-old bull made the best robe. Fig. 66 is a sketch of my grandson, 
made by Goodbird, showing a front and back view as he posed with a 
small calfskin wrapped about him, in the proper mode of the old days. 
It will be noted that while the robe is folded about the body with the 
head to the left, when it is finally belted, the head lies on the right side. 
I also wore a buffalo robe; but it was the old custom for a woman to 
wear her robe with the head and a little bit of the tail folded so as to show 
the hair. Besides, I wore a buckskin dress! and leggings of tent skin. 
My rawhide belt was drawn around my dress and tied. I wore winter 
moccasins like those of my husband, but, of course, smaller in size. In 
cold weather, both men and women drew the buffalo robes over their 
heads. I wore a second rawhide belt over my robe. My buckskin dress 
was of two deerskins, sewed together, head down. The heads were 
trimmed off at the neck and the sleeves made by sewing together the — 
hind legs of the two skins. The skirt reached to about three inches 
above the ankle. 





Fig.65 


Fig. 65. Sketch of Buffalo Robe 


1For comparative data on these types, see this series, vol. 17, part 2. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 235 


Fig. 64 is a sketch, drawn under my direction, of a dress which I 
once made of Rocky Mountain sheepskins.'_ It was very a rich garment 
and has six hundred elkteeth.? 

The First Camp. The first evening we camped at a spring at Timber- 
facing-across-river. ‘The women set up a frame for our camping tent of 
forked ash, elm, and box elder sticks, joining them at the top, like the 
framework for a tipi. The cover was of pieces of tent skins, each family 
contributing one piece or more. I brought two pieces. The tent was 
large enough for all twelve members of the party. 

While the woman set up the tent, Crow-flies-high and Bad-brave 
went out to hunt. They killed an elk and brought in as much of the 
meat as they could pack on their backs. 

As it was still early spring and the weather chilly, the hunters wore 
their robes as usual. Even in early summer, the hunters took a light 
robe with them, but in the hot months this was unnecessary. Even in 
midsummer, when on the hunt, the hunter wore his buckskin shirt. 

Fig. 67 illustrates the method of bringing meat into camp. In this 
case, Crow-flies-high and Bad-brave brought back the two sides of the elk 
with the ribs and the two hams with the tough outer meat removed. In 
Fig. 67 the meat shown on the back of the hunter is also a side with the 
ribs. To carry such a load, the hunter turned his robe fur side in, and 
bound it about his body with his belt, the tail hanging down. The head 
and neck of the robe were turned back over the shoulders and back so the 
fur. side was out. As will be noted in the sketch, the side of meat was sus- 
pended across the shoulders by a thong or pack strap cut from the green 
hide of the slain animal. A thick pad of grass was laid on the exposed 
fur of the buffalo robe to protect it from any juice that might sleep 
through from the freshly killed meat. 

Roasting Meat. ‘The two sides of elk brought in by Crow-flies-high 
and Bad-brave were roasted over the fire by Bad-brave and High-back- 
bone. They thrust a long stick through the meat and standing on either 
side of the fire, slowly swung the meat from side to side. When the flesh 
side was well roasted, they turned the rib side toward the fire and swung 
that back and forth until it too was cooked. It took a long time to roast 


TBRGiTy bef oan consumed an entire half day in describing this dress and getting the sketch 
made to suit her. She evidently took great pride in its description and the sketch was only approved 
after every detail had been worked out to her satisfaction.—G. 

: 2In 1910 Buffalo-bird-woman said, ‘‘Six times in my life, I have owned elktooth ornamented dresses. 
Onoe I had a dress with six hundred elkteeth on it. 

A blind Mandan man on this Reservation makes artificial elkteeth from the leg bones of oxen. 
These bones, we Indians think, do not decay as do the other parts of the ox’sskeleton. This man can 
make five artificial teeth in a day. He saws out the pieces and works them to shape with file and 
sandpaper. He tests the smoothness and accuracy of his work by touching the bits of bone with his 
lips and the tip of his tongue.”’ 


236 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


the two sides of the elk. That night we ate only the roasted meat, drink- 
ing neither coffee nor broth. 

The March. We moved camp the next morning.! Our route lay 
along a trail that skirted the foothills along the river; we always used this 
trail when we went on a hunt up the Missouri River. Our order of march 





(i 


Wet 


DepCoseo dx De Cosee se DP 


Fig. 67 Fig. 68 
Fig. 67. How Meat was carried into Camp on the Hunter’s Back. 
Fig. 68. Moving Camp: the Order of March. 


is indicated in Fig. 68. At the head, marched the three leaders walking 
together; then followed a man and his wife, walking side by side, and 
chatting. Three dogs with their travois, followed in single file, as dogs 
are trained to go. Then came another woman, the wife of one of the 
leaders, followed by her three dogs. Next walked a man and his wife, 





1Catlin, in the course of a vivid description of striking a Sioux camp says:— 

2 . in the rear of this heterogeneous caravan at least five times that number of dogs, which fall 
into the rank, and follow in the train and company of the women, and every cur of them, who is large 
enough, and not too cunning to be enslaved, is encumbered with a car or sled (or whatever it may be 
better called), on which he patiently drags his load—a part of the household goods and furniture of the 
lodge to which he belongs. Two poles, about fifteen feet long, are placed upon the dog’s shoulder, in the 
same manner as the lodge poles are attached to the horses, leaving the larger ends to drag upon the ground 
behind him; on which is placed a bundle or wallet which is allotted to him to carry, with which he trots 
off amid the throng of dogs and squaws; faithfully and cheerfully dragging his load ’till night. . . 
(Catlin, George, Illustrations of the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians, 
London, 1848, vol. 1, 45). 


1924. ] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 237 


followed by two dogs; then another man and his wife, in single file, their 
two dogs following. Then came two more women in single file; two dogs 
brought up the rear of the procession. The diagram (Fig. 68) is, I think, 
a typical representation of a4 day’s march. The leaders always walked 
first; each family, or if the husband was one of the leaders, the wife, 
followed in line just ahead of the family dogs. 

It will be noted that two of the men are shown walking with their 
wives. This was a common occurrence. If a husband and wife were. not 
talking together, the husband went ahead and the wife followed, but if 
they were chatting or wished to converse about anything, the husband 
joined his wife and they walked side by side. You say that when a 
white man walks with his wife upon the sidewalk in the city, he thinks it 
is polite to walk on the side next the road. We had no custom like this 
among our Indians in old times. A man walked with his wife on either 
side, as might be convenient. If a man were not talking to his wife, he 
walked in front of her. I do not know why this was done, but it was our 
old-time custom and we always followed it. We were quite a jolly crowd. — 
As we moved along, we talked and laughed, and told amusing stories. 

The trail led over the brow of the bluffs that overlooked the timbered 
bottoms along the river. Anyone who has traveled up the Missouri River 
will understand what I mean. This was a fairly well marked trail 
since it was used by our hunting parties, ascending and descending the 
river, by travelers, and perhaps by buffalo herds. There was sufficient 
travel over the trail to form a perceptible road. 

The Second Camp. Our second camp was made at the Slides, at a 
spring about half a mile in the Bad Lands. The men killed a buffalo 
bull so we had an abundance of meat for supper and breakfast the next 
morning. For supper, we had a kind of blood broth which I prepared. 

Blood Broth. Into a pail that could hold about three gallons I 

poured a gallon and a half or two gallons of blood from the buffalo bull. 
To this I added one cup of water, a piece of buffalo fat about twice the 
size of an egg, and about a double handful of boiled dried squash. Be- 
fore putting the pail on the fire I added the marrow from the buffalo leg 
bones. 
I cut a section of the trunk of a small chokecherry sapling about two 
feet long and stripped the bark toward one end, letting the strips cling 
an inch or two at the end and tying them into a ball or knob. I used this 
stick as a paddle, for as soon as the broth began to boil it needed con- 
stant stirring, lest it spoil. The bark knob on the end of the stick not 
only aided in stirring but also imparted a cherry flavor to the broth. 


238 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


I cut another stick and peeled it quite free of bark. I thrust this 
into the broth from time to time to see if it were done. If the blood cling- 
ing to the stick when it was withdrawn was still red, it was not done; but 
if the stick looked clean and white, the broth was ready to serve. When 
ready, the broth looked brown instead of red as at first. As it was a 
delicate dish! it would spoil if kept too long on the fire. 








Fig.72. 


Fig. 69. Sketch of exposed Buffalo Breast to show where 
Blood for Blood Broth was obtained. 

Fig. 70. Sketch of a Buffalo Paunch. 

Fig. 71. Bag made from Part of Paunch and filled with Blood. 

Fig. 72... Sketch of Buffalo Intestines. 


The blood to make this broth was obtained as follows:—Fig. 69 
is a sketch, made by Goodbird, of the exposed breast of a freshly killed | 
buffalo; Fig. 69C shows the heart with the lungs beneath; Fig. 69D isa 
membrane lying between the lungs and the intestines, called ntiti-coki, or . 
ribs-front, meaning something in front of his ribs; the black spot (Fig. 
69B) represents a pool of blood that always collects here and is held at 
this place by the membrane. 


1For further discussion of this peculiar method of preparing soup see this series, vol. 5, 26-27. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 239 


Fig. 70 presents a rough sketch of a buffalo paunch. The inside is 
covered with little cells which we call “‘hairs.’”’ On these divisions of the 
paunch these cells lie square (sic). The section marked A (Fig. 70) was 
cut off, the contents shaken out and the sack turned wrong side out. 
Now one man held the mouth of the sack open while another scooped the 
blood from the carcass with his two hands joined together like a cup. 
The clotted blood was thrown away since it was difficult to cook and was 
likely to spoil the soup. When the bag was filled, a stick was skewered 
back and forth through the edges of the mouth; these were gathered 
together beneath the skewer and bound with a sinew (Fig. 71). Thus tied, 
the sack of blood, could be hung on the saddle by a thong or borne home 
by hand. In thrusting the skewer into the mouth, I gathered the two 
edges together, folded them back and forth, and thrust the skewer 
through these folds. This drew the two edges of the mouth together very 
much as when we sew two pieces of skin together. 

In the summer time we made a kind of blood pudding. I presume 
this might have been made in the winter, but I never did it myself, as it 
was much harder to cook. . 

Blood Pudding. Fig. 72 presents a rough sketch of a buffalo’s in- 
testines with the vent marked. What we call the ‘crooked”’ intes- 
tines lie outside of the mass with the “‘straight”’ intestines within. 
E marks the end of the crooked intestines. This is a sack filled with 
dung and water. This sack was removed, turned inside out, and the 
outside surface cleaned by rubbing on the prairie grass. Of course, this 
outer surface had previously been inside and was fouled by the contents 
of the sack. This sack was now filled with blood from the breast of the 
buffalo, as in the case of the paunch, and skewered in the same manner. 
As previously stated, only the thin and not the clotted portions of the 
blood were taken. . 

Before the sack was tied, the three leg bones of the slain animal were 
cracked at the butchering place by striking them against one of the 
buffalo horns. The marrow was extracted with a knife, an arrow point, 
or a cleaning rod, and added to the blood. If they were in season, some 
ripe juneberries were also added. 

At the camp a fire was made. When it had burned down, the coals 
were pushed aside, leaving a bed of hot ashes upon which the bag of 
blood was laid with the mouth tightly closed. A man rolled the bag back 
and forth over the ashes with a stick so that it would not burn. The stick 
was not fastened to the bag in any way. When the outside of the bag 
became crisp and charred, it was taken out and allowed to cool. Then the 
mouth was cut open. 


240 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


This pudding was very good. A man would take a spoon and eat 
from the opened sack, crying, ‘‘Aha-héy! sakits!” ‘Hey! Good!” 
Then he passed the bag to the man next to him, and so on around the 
circle. When it was the women’s turn, we emptied what was left into a 
bowl, threw away the sack, and all ate together. We used either a buffalo 
horn or some other kind of spoon. 

The scene I have described might take ines either In summer camp 
or in an earth-lodge. The men ate before the women, for it was customary 
when a man had his favorite and finest foods cooked, to call in perhaps 
five or ten of his friends. He was thought to be very ungenerous if he did 
not invite his men friends. For this reason, the men ate first, since they 
were guests. - They usually left some of the pudding for the women, 
perhaps a quarter or more of it. If my husband called in some of his 
friends to eat a blood pudding and they left me a quarter of it, I might 
’ either eat it myself or else I called in some of my women friends. If a 
man or a woman ate his best foods alone, the people said, “That is a bad 
man,” or, ‘That is a bad woman,”’ but if he or she invited his friends, 
people would say, ‘‘That is a good man,” or ‘That is a good woman.” 

Ownership of Slaughtered Game. When game was killed and brought 
to the household the meat and skins belonged to the women, never to the 
-men. We might share these with our parents and relatives or friends, or 
do with them just as we pleased, since they belonged to us. 

Story Telling. In the evening, we built a big fire in the tent to light 
it up, sat around it, and told stories. One man usually told the story 
while the rest listened and laughed. We told stories of traveling, of war 
parties, or of men or people who did unusual things, either good or bad; 
but generally the women did not talk much. We sat and talked until 
quite late, perhaps about eleven o’clock, and then we retired to our beds. 

Third Camp. We arose before sunrise the next morning. As soon as 
breakfast was over, the men started out to hunt. As we had killed a 
buffalo bull the day before, we thought there might be herds in our 
vicinity. The men spent the whole morning searching for signs of the 
presence of buffalo, but found none. Early in the afternoon, we broke 
camp and went on about five miles, making camp again on the south side 
of a lake lying in the timber near Shell Creek. 

There was still snow on the ground and the ice in the Missouri began 
to break up the day we killed the buffalo bull. 

Fourth Camp. The next morning we moved on again ain in the 
evening camped at Deep Creek. 

Meals. When on the march we did not stop for a meal at noon, but 
ate at any, or all the time, if we were hungry. We carried with us plenty ~ 





1924.]. Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 241 


of cooked meat for our lunch and ate whenever we were hungry. If 
either my husband or I became hungry, I opened my lunch bag and 
distributed the food so that each member of the party got a share. 

Feeding the Dogs. On the march we fed our dogs and were always 
considerate of them. When the rest of us ate lunch, the dogs also ate. 
(See pp. 201-202.) 


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Fig. 73. Assisting a Dog to swim a Creek. 


Dogs Crossing a Creek. - If our dogs needed to cross a creek too deep 
for them to ford easily, one of the men waded into the water and held the 
rear end of the travois out of the water while the dog swam across (Fig. . 
73); in this way, the objects carried on the travois basket were kept dry. 
The man raised the two ends of the travois poles very much as a white 
man lifts the handles of a plow. 

Unloading the Dogs. In the evening, when we arrived at camp, the 
travois were removed from the dogs, the baskets unloaded, and the 
travois stood up on end with the smaller ends tied loosely at the top, by 
their neck collars, like the framework of a tent (Fig. 74). They were set 
up in this fashion so that they could be kept dry, for if a rain came up, the 
wind soon dried them again.! 


1See p. 220. 


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1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 243 


In the morning, each dog was harnessed to his own travois, as it was 
our custom never to interchange the travois belonging to the several 
dogs. 

Water for Dogs. I never carried water for my dogs, although I 
heard that other people carried it with them in buffalo paunches. I have 
heard that the Assiniboin often did this, and though I never saw it done 
in my own tribe, it is quite likely that this custom was sometimes fol- 
lowed. (See p. 225.) 

The Tent. The tent we used on this hunt was set up anew at each 
camp with a framework of freshly cut poles. We always pitched the 
tent in a rather open place in the timber and on rising ground, a knoll or 
ridge, where the snow was not so deep. I had brought with me the only 
hoe in camp and with this I scraped the snow off the ground. 

The foundation for the tent framework was of four forked poles, the 
tops interlocking at.the forks.!. Then an additional half dozen unforked 
poles were cut with which the circle was completed. 

The tent cover consisted of six pieces of skin, each one and one-half 
or one and one-quarter hides in size, and roughly rectangular in shape. 
The four corners of each of these rectangular pieces were pierced so the 
skins could be tied together in a series. Each woman contributed at least 
one piece of skin toward the completion of the tent. The tent poles were 
covered in two sections: an upper and a lower series of skins. The lower 
series was put on first; at intervals, the upper edges of the skins of this 
series were tied to the tent poles to stay them. The upper series was put on 
in the same way, but overlapped the lower series like shingles on a house. 

As will be noted in Fig. 76, the door, too, was made to overlap, as 
shown by the dotted line. To enter the tent, it was necessary to raise 
this door flap and step over the overlapped portion. 

Since the ground was still frozen, tent pins could not be used; in- 
stead, small logs were laid along the bottom of the tent upon the edge 
of the tent skins. For greater security, one or two of these logs was 
held in place by laying them upon the edge of the tent cover, turning 
the edge of the cover over the log, either wholly or partly, and inserting 
a tent pin in the ground. A shallow hole was dug in the hard ground with 
an ax and the peg driven in, as will be noted to the left of the tent shown 
in the illustration (Fig. 76A). To secure the tent still further, a rawhide 
thong is tied just above the door, passed around the tent, and then tied 
to the top of one of the exposed poles (Fig. 76B). 





1For a general statement of tipi structure and distributions for the different types see this series, 
vol. 21, 222, and vol. 5, 108-117. 


244 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. (Vol. XV, 


In windy weather, a saddle blanket of buffalo belly skin was put up 
on the windward side of the smoke hole where it was held in place by a 
forked stick, one prong of the stick being thrust through two apertures 
cut in the skin (Fig. 76C). Its purpose was to prevent the smoke from 
being driven into the tent by the wind. 

Blossom, Crow-flies-high’s wife, and the Assiniboin woman, as well 
as I, had brought axes. The men carried no hatchets. } 

Pipes. Crow-flies-high and High-back-bone carried pipes in their 
tobacco bags together with tobacco or some other smoking ingredient. 
The tobacco bag was tied to the belt on the right side. 

The Campfire. During meals we sat in a circle around the fire and 
facing it, each man with his wife. The food bowls from which we ate 
were placed before each couple. We had no fixed places in front of the 
fire, but sat wherever we were inclined. 

The Beds. There was a bed for each couple in the tent, six in all. 
They were placed head to head and foot to foot. As one entered the tent, 
the first bed on the right was that of Long-bear and his wife; next, was 
that of the Sioux, Scar, and his wife; then followed in order the beds of 
High-back-bone and his wife; Bad-brave and his wife; Crow-flies-high 
and his wife; and finally, that of Son-of-a-star and myself. There was no 
particular reason for this order, except that this was the arrangement at 
the first camp, and these places became fixed so that when we made camp, 
each couple put their bed in the same place (Fig. 77). 

Fig. 75 is a sketch of one of these beds made by my son, Goodbird. 
A small log was laid parallel with the wall of the tent and pinned in place 
by small stakes driven into the ground. Grass was cut with our hoe and 
heaped on the floor between the log and the wall of the tent. Over the 
grass were laid two buffalo robes, fur side up. A third, was folded, fur 
side out, for a pillow and laid at the head on a grass cushion. The object 
of the log was to keep the grass from working out from under the bed and 
to prevent sparks from setting fire to the grass. The husband always slept 
on the side toward the fire. ) 

Arrangement of Baggage. Guns were tied to the tent poles, stock 
down, each gun over the bed of its owner. Other packages, especially 
those not easily damaged, such as packages of dried meat, fat, or buffalo 
intestines, were placed outside of the tent along the edge of the tent cover 
as shown in Fig. 77. ) 

The Dogs’ Sleeping Place. The dogs slept wherever they chose, 
sometimes near the tent, sometimes farther removed. The dogs belong- 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 245 


ing to one family sometimes slept together. However, all the dogs of the 
camp never slept together in one place as one pack. (See Kennels, p. 
202.) . 

Leaders. As this was only a small hunting party, there was no 
regularly chosen leader; but, as I have said, on the march, two or three 
men always went ahead of the party. 

Buffalo Hunting on Deep Creek. The day after we pitched camp at 
Deep Creek, the men of our party discovered that buffalo were crossing 
the Missouri River from south to north, about five miles from our camp. 





Fig. 78. The Meat Drying Stage. 


The hunters waited on the bank until the buffalo landed and in this way 
killed five fat cows. The women remained at the camp. When the hunt- 
ers discovered that the herd was crossing, a great number had already 
landed so that part of the herd was on either side of the river. 

The men cut up the buffalo and put up stages on which they placed 
the meat. Such stages were made about five feet high, so as to be out of 
reach of the wolves. Usually, the hunters looked for an elm tree, a box- 
elder, or ash, with the limbs branching out in a fork about five feet or a 
little more from the ground. When such a tree was found, they gathered 
up some dead and dry forked limbs and put up the other two or three 
supports for the platform (Fig. 78). Of course, the platform shown in 


246 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


Fig. 78, is not exactly like other hunters’ platforms which were put up 
very rudely. If possible, the hunters used a tree as one of the supports 
for the stage; they made the others of dead and dry forked poles. In 
Fig. 78 is a sketch of the meat stage constructed at Deep Creek as I recol- 
lect it. It was strong enough to keep its position without having the 
supporting posts thrust into the ground. Meat was laid not only upon 
the platform, but was hung upon the tops of the forked poles and in the 
branches of the tree. I remember that the hides were not laid on the 
platform proper, but were folded over the limbs of the tree as in Fig. 78. 
Goodbird has only drawn two pieces of meat lying on the platform, but 
of course, when the hunters left the stage the platform was piled full of 
meat. 

Sometimes, to protect meat from wolves and coyotes, hunters stuck 
a cleaning rod in the ground with a cloth tied to it. 7 

Cuts of Meat. We cut up a buffalo carcass according to a regular 
plan. The various cuts of meat, as I now recollect them, I will name in 
my own language. I give those I can remember, but there are probably 
others which I do not at this moment recollect. I have no carcass of a 
steer at hand in which I can point out the cuts and it would be difficult 
for me to describe them clearly. 

The following are the names of the larger pieces:— 


Tei’taduka Du’ta 
Ici'tadutapa Matsu’adu 
Idikoré’éxi A’da 
Ici'tipitsétsé A’dapahu 
I’dikaduidu’ Kidi’ki 
Itsi’dupakua a/du_ idu’ Natidapa’ 
Na’tiduka Naxaxi 
Ieu’taduidu Iei’tidu 
Ici'takakeu’i Kidi’kaputi 
Edika’sa A’padupa’ta 
The following are the names of the smaller cuts we recognized :— 
Itawi’dica Adu’a | 
Ada’ci Mitéduwa’ta 
Itawidaktsi/hé Napi‘tutsu 
Tsécai’kipa’caki re 


Flaying of Hides. The hide of a one or two year old buffalo was 
taken off whole; that of an older animal was slit down the back. When 
put on the stage, it was folded flesh side in, with the edges turned in, as 
shown in Figs. 79. This was only a temporary provision. Lest it begin 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 247. 
to spoil, a green hide should be stretched to dry the second day after it is 
removed. <A hide was folded, as shown in Fig. 79, merely for storage 
over night on a stage, or for transportation to the tent to be fleshed and 
dried the next day. 

The Choice Pieces. After the hunters had placed the hides and the 
greater part of the meat from the five cows on the stage, they returned 
to the camp, packing some of the 
choicer cuts on their backs. Usually, 
these were the tongues and kidneys 
and the meat on the breastplate bone. 
They brought in only the choicest 
pieces because we already had a 
good supply on hand. 

How the Cuts were Slung. Since 
we had no horses with us on this 
hunt we naturally could not trans- 
port any of the large cuts of buffalo 
meat on horseback.! Usually, the 
larger cuts were packed home on 
horseback by binding together with 
a thong two cuts of about equal 
weight, in such a way that they 
could be slung over the horse’s back. 
Each of the larger cuts was always 


pierced in a special place to receive 
the thong, which consisted of a piece 
of green hide about two feet long, 
cut from the slit edge of a half hide. 
In Fig. 80 is shown the tie by which 
the smaller cuts were fastened to 
the thong. A long slit was cut in 
one end of the green thong. This 
slit end was then passed through the 


Fig. 79. A Green Hide temporarily 
folded before Fleshing. 


Fig. 80. Method of fastening Meat 
to a Thong of Green Hide for Trans- 
portation. 

Fig. 81. How the tie shown in Fig. 
80 is made. 

Fig. 82. Two Pieces of Meat tied 


together for Transportation. 


hole pierced in the cut of meat and the end drawn upward and passed 


through the slit above the piece of meat. 


Then it was drawn through 


far enough to permit the cut of meat to be passed through the slit (Fig. 
81). -Finally, the thong was drawn, completing the knot. 

For the larger cuts of meat, such as a side with the ribs in it, slits 

were cut in each end of the thong, as previously described. Through a 


1For additional data on these points see vol. 5, 42. 


248 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


hole pierced in one of the two pieces, the slit end is drawn and looped by 
drawing the entire thong back through this slit. Consequently, the 
second cut was merely pierced, the thong drawn through, and tied. Fig. 
82 is a rude diagram explaining this tie. 

The Fifth Camp. The next morning, we crossed the Missouri about 
four miles further up the river at an open place where grew a few scat- 
tered willows. Both the men and women set to work to cut a path 
through the willows for the travois. Then we loaded the travois and the 
dogs dragged them to the river’s edge. We had two bull-boats besides 
my own to use in ferrying our equipment over. These belonged to Head- 
plume-woman and Blossom (or Squash Blossom, as it should be trans- 
lated, though we usually say Blossom). 

Ferrying over the Missouri by Bull-Boat. My husband and I loaded 
our bull-boat and pushed off, the dogs swimming after us. We bound 
our three travois, piled one upon the other, to the edge of the boat by a 
short thong attached to the saddle of each travois by a large loop in such 
a way that the saddle projected upward over the boat. The lower 
travois basket was immersed in water, but the upper ones were hardly 
wet. I paddled while my husband sat in the back of the boat. (See pp. 
212504 

Our object in crossing the Missouri was to find buffalo. As I have 
remarked, only part of the herd had crossed the river, so the hunters 
said, ‘‘We think there are more buffalo on the other side.”” When we 
arrived at the opposite shore, my husband and I unloaded our boat and 
loaned it to one of the other families; I have forgotten which one. The 
members of the party crossed the river, bringing over all their possessions 
in two trips. As it was but a short distance from shore to the new camp, 
we ourselves carried everything up the bank and did not put the travois 
on our dogs. 

Now a dispute arose among the members of the party. The hunters 
wanted to abandon the meat from the buffaloes they had killed the day 
before, saying, ‘‘There is better hunting on this side. Let us kill buffalo 
while we have an opportunity and abandon the meat we have staged on 
the other side of the river.”” We did not find signs of buffalo as plentiful 
as we had expected and the men began to argue, “‘ We had better return 
for the meat we staged.” 

The next morning, we crossed the river again, with our dogs and 
travois. The first trip three of us crossed in a boat, returning for the - 
other members of the party. It was about three quarters of a mile from 
our landing place to the spot where the meat was staged. We made one 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 249 


trip to the stage, bringing back all the choicest meat, loading it partly 
on the travois and partly packing it ourselves. We made several trips 
across the river for the meat, but I do not recollect how many. Both the 
‘men and the women in the party helped pack the meat to the boats, we 
women using our pack straps while the men used rawhide ropes we had 
brought with us. 

I have described how the elk was packed to our camp (F oO Va 
buffalo meat was transported in the same manner, except that the men 
used dried rawhide ropes and the women, pack straps. I packed an entire 
cow hide, cut in two pieces, in one load. 

We reached camp with our last load in the early afternoon and spent 
the rest of the day busily building our stages, placing our meat on them, 
and staking out our hides for drying. 

The next day, the wind shifted to the west so we knew the buffalo 
could not smell the smoke of our campfires. We also built a fire under the 
stages to smoke our meat. My own stage was a platform of poles set 
upon four stays for posts; each support was a kind of tripod, made of 
three forked poles.! 

Killing and Butchering. 'The next morning, we saw buffaloes scat- 
tered thickly on a bluff on the south side of the river about a quarter of a 
-_ mile away. The men immediately set out afoot to follow them. In 
camp, the evening before, we had been very careful to make no unneces- 
sary disturbance, chopping no wood, and silencing the dogs when they 
barked. About noon, after we had made another crossing for some more 
of the meat we had left on the drying stages on the other side of the river, 
the men started on the hunt. Soon we heard shots, Bang, bang, bang, 
bang! The buffalo were so close we could see the men fire their guns. Of 
course, they all aimed at fat cows: some killed two, some only one. Ina 
short time, however, the buffalo were frightened by the reports of the 
guns, and fled, disappearing over the bluff, away from the river. 

_ The hunt took place on a bit of bad land formation so frequently 
found on the Missouri River. Our hunters crept up on the herd, slipping 
up ravines and hiding behind knolls or swells in the land, taking advantage 
of anything that would hide them from the view of the buffaloes. 

As the weather was still cool, our hunters set out with their robes 
belted about them. When they returned, each hunter packed a load of 
meat on his back (Fig. 67). Only the choice cuts were brought back in 
this fashion: the tongues, the kidneys, and the ham bones for the marrow; 


1The foregoing was related by Buffalo-bird-woman in 1913; the following portion of the account 
was related in August a year later.—G. L. W. 


250 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


the rest of the meat was left behind on the meat pile. Some of the ribs 
with the meat clinging to them were also brought in. A hole was cut 
through the kidneys and the tip of the buffalo tongue through which a 
strip of green hide was strung to carry them. The men returned while 
the sun was still an hour or two high. We were glad to receive them and 
to see that they had had such a successful hunt. 

Our camp consisted of a single skin tent as described in Fig. 76. The 
following morning we went, with our dogs and travois, to bring in the 
meat left behind by the hunters. When we arrived at the butchering 
place, I saw that a stick on which a piece of white sheeting (the head 
cloth of one of our hunters) had been tied like a flag, had been thrust 
into the ground to frighten away the wolves. 





Fig. 83. The Meat Pile and its Contents. 1, The meat pile covered with 
the skin; the meat lies upon another skin laid upon the ground, flesh side up. 
2, The cloth flag flying from a gun rod. 3, The skinned head and neck with 
tongue removed. 4, The rejected ends of the legs, skinned. 5, The lungs, 
heart, and windpipe; the heart was sometimes taken and sometimes rejected. 
6, The liver. 7, The backbone. 8, The guts and stomach, both rejected. 


In order that they might not be seen when raising their heads 
above the sky line from behind a hill, it was customary for hunters and 
warriors to wrap a piece of white sheeting around the head. This cloth 
was usually gray or yellowish gray as it became somewhat soiled by use. 
It was one of these head cloths that had been tied to the stick. Formerly, 
before cloth was obtainable, hunters or warriors wore buffalo skin caps, 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. « 251 


in winter, fur side in; in summer of skin from which the hair had been 
scraped. I do not know whether a Hidatsa hunter in very old times ever 
tied a skin around his head like a kerchief. This custom apparently be- 
came common after we obtained white sheeting from the Whites. All 
our stories relating to old-time customs tell only of caps worn by hunters 
and warriors. 

Although they were skinned almost to the hoof, the ends of the four 
legs up to the joints were cut off and thrown away. The head was 
skinned, the tongue taken, and the rest of the head discarded; the flesh 
on the neck was also rejected because of its toughness. If fat, the en- 
trails were saved; otherwise, they were thrown away. When they were 
kept, they were emptied of their contents by being drawn through the 
hand and compressed by the thumb and fingers. 

Goodbird has drawn a sketch of a meat pile as he has observed his 
father, my husband, make it (Fig. 83). It will be noted that the meat lies 
on one hide and is covered by another. The pile contains the meat of 
two buffaloes. The shape of the pile as here drawn is caused by the ribs 
and leg bones lying underneath the overlying skin. 

In winter, when the snow lay on the ground, the hunters dug a hole 
in the snow, put the meat in it, and covered it with a skin. Then a cloth 
flag was tied to a stick and driven into the pile to keep the wolves away. 
Very commonly, when hunters were butchering buffaloes, wolves, coy- 
otes, and kit-foxes sat around at a distance on their haunches, like dogs. 
As long as the flag waved over the meat, they did not approach, but as 
soon as the meat pile was removed, they ran forward at once to seize the 
rejected pieces. I have seen as many as ten or twelve of these animals 
sitting in a circle while the hunters were butchering; indeed, they ap- 
peared almost every time a killing was made, keeping just out of bow 
shot. All these animals were much bolder and more numerous when I 
was young. One time when we were camping, a kit-fox came into the 
tent after we had gone to bed and ran over the face of one of the sleep- 
ers. There were several foxes that smelled the meat in the tent and 
they were bold enough to come in where we slept and try to steal it. 

When the hunters left the butchering place, the wolves, coyotes and — 
kit-foxes rushed in to eat the rejected pieces that were left on the ground. 
The wolves snapped and fought with one another, but I never saw the 
foxes or coyotes fight. The pack soon cleared up the discarded scraps. 
Sometimes big red foxes also joined the pack. 

Transporting Meat with Dogs. All the members of the camp went 
to the butchering place the next morning to bring in the meat left there 


252 Anthro pelogical Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


through the night. We took our dogs with us, but everyone expected to 
help pack the meat back to camp; however, the men carried the heaviest 
loads. 

My husband and I led our a a68 to his meat pile and loaded our 
travois. We did not cover it, neither did we pierce holes through the 
viscera of the pieces. The meat was simply loaded on the basket and 
bound with thongs attached to the travois basket for that purpose. I 
knew by experience how much of a load each of my dogs could drag. I 
usually tested the weight of the load by raising the travois, holding the 
poles about half way between the basket and the dragging ends. As they 
were well fed, the dogs were very quiet and not at all excited when they 
arrived at the butchering place. However, though they were not at all 
hungry, as soon as we arrived we gave each dog a small piece of meat. 
After I had loaded both travois, I made up my own pack which consisted 
of one buffalo cowskin; the sinew from one side of a buffalo cow with all 
the meat attached, the ribs of one side with the meat attached, and one 
buffalo tongue. This was such a heavy load that when I came into camp 
the rest of the party were astonished. They came up and tried the weight. 
of my pack and said, ‘‘ This is too heavy FOP a woman to carry, she should 
not try to carry so heavy a pack.” 

We had started with our dogs just after sunrise. We had risen quite 
early, cooked our breakfast of fresh buffalo meat, boiling some and roast- 
ing the rest. We drank the broth from the boiled meat instead of coffee. 
I remémber we boiled our meat in a tin pail and that some had tin cups 
from which they drank, while others had horn spoons. 

We made two trips to the meat pile. As I have said, the first trip I 
loaded both my dogs with meat and I myself carried home one skin and 
some meat. The second trip, each dog was loaded with one half a skin 
and some meat. This half skin was spread on the travois basket, flesh 
side up, and folded over the meat. I have already remarked that the 
meat on the travois basket was not covered during the first trip. On the 
second trip, I also carried home some meat, but no skins. As my hus- 
band had killed two cows, both skins have been accounted for. Buffalo 
_ cows were commonly skinned by splitting the hide down the middle of 
the back, if it was intended to use the skin for robes; but if a bull-boat 
was to be made of the skin, the animal was skinned whole. 

Kidneys from freshly killed buffalo were ordinarily eaten raw or 
roasted on the coals. They were never boiled, but were usually eaten as 
soon as they were brought in and while still warm, as they soon spoiled; 
indeed, they could hardly be kept over night. The fresh warm kidneys 
were eapecally coveted by sick people. 


1924.) Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 253 


How We Traveled with Bull-boats. We remained in this camp about 
ten days. The men hunted until they succeeded in killing buffalo; then 
we took a half day to bring in the meat which the women dried. Between 
hunting periods, when it was necessary to dry the meat, the women 
_ busied themselves in making bull-boats.1. We had brought with us one 

bull-boat, but I now made another. Each of these boats had a cowskin 
cover. When each family was provided with two bull-boats we ceased 
making them. My husband and I loaded one of our boats with hides 
ang meat while my husband and I paddled the second. In the boat with 
us were our dogs and some additional bundles. Hereafter, I shall call 
the first mentioned our freight boat, and the second our passenger boat. 

I have said that the freight boat was loaded with hides and dried 
meat. The hides were tied up, two or three in a bundle, flesh side out. 
The meat was tied into bundles small enough to be readily lifted. When 
a buffalo was killed, the paunch was taken out and dried for use as a 
wrapping when we made up a bundle of dried meat. The dried paunch 
~ was laid flat on the ground and the meat placed upon it. I then stamped 
the dried meat down solid with my feet, standing on the bundle for this 
purpose. The bundle was then tied snugly with rawhide thongs. Of 
course, these thongs passed around the dried paunch which was wrapped 
about the meat bundle. 

Other bundles were simply tied with thongs, for naturally, we did not 
have enough paunch coverings for all of them. To make a paunch wrap- 
ping, the whole paunch was taken. Unless meat was very scarce and we 
had to save as much as possible, the inner coat of the paunch was peeled 
off and tossed away. The paunch was then cut to dry it. When properly 
cut, its length and width were approximately the same. The object of 
cutting the paunch was to make a symmetrical sheet. The walls of the 
paunch were thicker in some places than in others. In these thick places 
the paunch was split and the pieces opened and folded back, making the 
paunch into a bigger sheet when it was spread out. We knew just where 
to split it to make the largest and most symmetrical sheet. Also, if the 
thick walls of the paunch were not split it was apt to spoil in drying and 
become decayed and full of worms. 

A buffalo bull, if a fat one, made just four bundles of dried meat; 
a buffalo cow was smaller. I am not sure just how many bundles the 
dried meat of an average cow made. 

We camped at this place, ten days; the men hunting, the women 
drying meat and making bull-boats. When we were ready to move 


1See pp. 276-277, 285-287, 295. 


254 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


camp I carried the bull-boats down to the river, one at a time, the new 
boat first, turned upside down on my head like a big hat. At the river’s 
edge I drove a stout stake into the soft mud and tied one of my boats to it 
with a thong and the boat floated out on the water. The river bank on 





Fig. 85 


Fig. 84: Buffalo-bird-woman and her Husband paddling one Bull- 
Boat and towing another loaded with Meat and Skins. 
Fig. 85. Wading into the River to load a Bull-Boat. 


the side nearest the camp, which was about seventy-five yards from the 
river, was not steep. I packed the bundles I wanted to load into the 
boat down to the bank on my back, using a two-banded packing strap. 
First, I carried down the dried hides, each tied singly. I put them into 


1924.) Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 255 


the new boat, fitting them in snugly. I had five hides in all to load on 
my boat; I counted two half hides together as one bundle.! 

Having loaded the hides, I proceeded to add my bundles of dried 
meat. When the boat was full, I covered all neatly with one of the pieces 
of old tent skin I carried with me to help cover our improvised tent which 
the camping party set up at every stopping place. This covering was 
bound down by thongs passed over the mouth of the boat (Fig. 84). 
Then I lashed my two travois in the rear of the boat so the baskets would 
be kept dry on its edge although the ends of the travois dragged in the 
water (Fig. 84). 

When I brought the two boats down to the river, I set my passenger 
boat on the ground, mouth up, but pushed the freight boat out into the 
water, tying it with a thong to a stake driven into the bank. 

When I had loaded the freight boat, I pushed the second (passenger) 
boat out on the upstream side and lashed both together securely by passing 
a thong under a rib inside each boat and drawing it taut, allowing no 
play to the boats. The tow boats were lashed head to tail, that is, every 
bull-boat was built so that the head of the skin covering was forward; 
in this case the second boat was lashed with its head to the tail of the 
first (Fig. 84). Then I untied the freight boat and let it float until the 
passenger boat was abreast of the stake, where I anchored it. I recollect 
that I put some bundles into the second boat, but do not remember 
now what they were, probably meat or hides. I placed my ax and hoe 
in the bottom of the boat. While I was loading the boats I had to wade 
into the soft bed of the river until the water came up to my knees, so I 
removed my moccasins and leggings and drew my skirt up under my belt 
to avoid wetting it (Fig. 85). 

When both boats had been loaded, I waded out and climbed into the 
‘ passenger boat, being careful to sit as nearly in the middle as I could. I 
now called my two dogs, U’x-itic, Short-tail, and Ita-cipihé, Painted-face- 
black-killed,? and they readily sprang into the boat. My husband, who 
had helped to load the boats, like myself, had taken off his moccasins, 
but retained his leggings which he had rolled up to his knees. He put his 
gun in the boat, leaning the barrel against the rim. He untied the boat, 


-1Buffalo-bird-woman is not very clear here. She has stated in a former paragraph that the dried 
hides were tied up two or three toa bundle. She here seems to imply that one entire hide made a bundle, 
and two half hides made one bundle. Neither Buffalo-bird-woman nor Goodbird in translating is 
careful to distinguish between a whole hide and a half hide.’ Goodbird usually translates the term by 

“buffalo skin’’ unless I am careful to question him. I think Buffalo-bird-woman here means that one 
whole buffalo hide or two or three half hides made one bundle.—G. L. W. 

*Buffalo-bird-woman gives the number of her dogs as three and names them differently in the por- 
tion of her account related in 1913. It was agreed between us that names of any dogs of her family 
might be used as she could not always recollect how individuals of the pack were named in a particular 
year.—G. L. W 


256 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.  [Vol. XV, 


waded in, pushed it out into deeper water, and climbed in. As his 
weight brought down his side of the boat, I moved toward the opposite 
edge to balance the boat and prevent it from upsetting (Fig. 84). 
Fig. 84 will give an idea of how our passenger boat was loaded. My 
husband and I each had one paddle. I had brought my paddle from the 
village. It hada hole in the middle to make it more easily managed, for 
the water passed through the hole so that the paddle did not play from 
side to side as a solid paddle invariably did. While in camp I had made a 
second paddle of a piece of drift cottonwood that had floated down the 
Missouri and was cured. I made a hole in it similar to that in the old 
paddle. My husband used the newer paddle, since it was larger and 
heavier than the old one which was better suited to my strength. 

I sat at the left of the boat with my feet turned to the right and 
paddled. An Indian woman always sat in this fashion unless she was 
left-handed; in that case her feet were turned to the left. When wearied, 
my husband and I changed places, but even then I sat with my feet 
to the right. I do not recollect whether my husband sat with his feet 
to the right, probably he did. We each sat on a bundle of some kind 
(Fig. 84). We sat a little forward, the dogs and some bundles behind us, 
and afew bundles in front of us. | 

When at home at our village, if I had occasion to cross the Missouri 
in a bull-boat, I knelt in the forward part of the boat because I could 
deliver a better stroke with the paddle. However, on this journey, there 
were two of us paddling, one on either side; besides, as we were going 
downstream a heavy stroke was unnecessary, since we had merely to 
keep the two boats in the current. 

The two paddles were decorated with my husband’s honor marks 
(Fig. 86). Of these, the one on the left was brought from the village; 
like the newer paddle it was made of cottonwood. The entire design 
refers to the time when my husband was wounded in his right thigh, 
the horse he rode being killed with the same shot. The uppermost marks 
represent the tracks of a man’s moccasins with wound marks like flowing 
blood falling from them. The three lowermost symbols are hoof marks of 
a horse, also with wound marks. The design means, of course, that my 
husband had been wounded in the foot or leg and that his horse had been 
shot. The marks on the second paddle signify ‘“‘I was in battle and an 
enemy was killed and I was one of four warriors who counted coup upon 
him.” The spiral design signifies, ‘‘I struck one enemy.” In this case, 
the enemy that was struck was not the only one killed in the battle. I 
made this paddle at the same time I built the second bull-boat. My hus- 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 20%, 


band smoothed it down with his knife and added his honor marks by 
anointing his index finger with buffalo fat, dipping it into his paint bag, 
and drawing the design in red upon the paddle with his finger. The 
paddle was always dipped into the water painted side forward. As it 
was not used against the water the design was retained for a long time. 
The back of the paddle was unpainted. 

Son-of-a-star carried his paint in a paint bag. 
In olden times the husband carried a paint bag 
and every morning painted his face, as did his 
wife and children also. In those good times 
everybody in the village appeared with faces 
handsomely painted, though at present we no 
longer follow this custom and walk about with 
unpainted faces, looking just like ghosts. In olden 
times, young men usually provided themselves 
with a light red and a yellow paint, though older 
men used only the red paint. 

On this hunt, my husband, Son- eS 
carried a paint bag for his use and mine; bus 
an unmarried woman carried her own paint bag. 
He did not, however, trouble to paint his face 
very often, only painting every now and then. 
I painted every morning because the wind and 
air made our faces dark, tanned them as you 
say, so we painted that our complexions would Fig. 86. Bull-Boat 
not darken. If a woman with a very light com- Paddles decorated with 
plexion did not paint her face it became as dark Honor Marks. 
as anybody’s. To paint my face I rubbed 
- grease made from buffalo back fat into my palms and then rubbed my 
palms over my face. Then I opened the mouth of the paint bag and 
with the flat of my three fingers I touched the paint, principally where 
it clung lightly to the sides of the skin bag within. Of course, a little 
of the paint clung to my fingers which were oily with the buffalo fat. 
I now touched my fingers, first to one cheek and then the other, and 
finally I rubbed the paint evenly all over my face. 

My husband, Son-of-a-star, carried a small bag containing an awl, 
scissors, and sinew thread and also his paint bag. When he was a young 
man he carried a small lookingglass in a beaded case with an otterskin 
handle which he slipped over his left wrist. He used this mirror when he 
painted his face. The young men were rather particular about their 
toilet. 





258 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.  [Vol. XV, 


There were eleven bull-boats in our party. Each couple, except 
I’dutsatsahic, or Sear, and his wife, Tsakakawiac, or Bird-woman had tao 
boats. They had one boat. They were a young couple and thought a 
good deal more of having a good time than of taking home a big load o 
dried meat. Scar’s wife’s name was Tsakakawiac, or Bird-woman. She 
was my friend and a member of the Prairie Chicken band. Our boats 
proceeded in no particular order, any couple paddling ahead as they 
wished. 

We had paddled about five miles down the river when we saw a 
large herd of buffaloes covering the shore on our right. ‘‘ Let us get off 
and hunt some more,” said the men of the party. We made our way to a 
small piece of woodland farther downstream where we landed in such a 
position that the trees hid us from the herd. The men of the party 
sprang out and held the bull-boats, while the women landed. There was 
a bar of clean sand about two feet higher than the level of the water, 
while just beyond rose the bank, probably about ten feet high. We 
landed on the sandbar, unloaded the boats, and drew them up on the bar. 
Then we carried the bundles and boats to the higher ground above the 
bank. Along the edge of the Missouri River are always found dead and 
dried willow sticks. We gathered some of these, carried them up the 
bank, and laid a floor of dried sticks on the prairie grass. We laid our 
bundles on these and turned our bull-boats over them, mouth down. Of 
course, I do not mean that the dry and dead willows were laid out in one 
big floor; I mean that each couple gathered these sticks and laid them 
out close together on the prairie, making a floor big enough to hold their 
baggage. This was to prevent it from touching the damp soil. The bull- 
boats were turned over the bundles to protect them from rain and mist. 
As soon as the boats and baggage were deposited on the upper bank, the 
men took their guns and stole away after the buffalo. We had landed a 
little before noon and, as we worked rapidly, the men were ready to start 
about noon. . 

The hunters advanced on the herd, sheltering themselves behind 
any rising ground they could find, while they picked out the fat cows 
they wanted to kill. Soon we heard the report of their guns; they killed 
five fat cows. While the hunters were stalking the herd, we remained 
quietly in camp and kept the dogs from making any outery; but as soon 
as we heard the reports of the guns, we gathered sticks for a fire. I 
think the first of the hunters who returned, struck fire for us with his 
‘flint. We had but one fire in camp in the open air, for we had not pitched 
our tent. The women prepared a meal and after we had eaten, harnessed 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 259 


the travois to the dogs and went to bring in the meat. My husband and I 
made two trips, if I remember correctly; some of the people made three 
trips. We built stages, cut the meat into thin slices, and built fires under 
the stages to dry the meat. 


Before nightfall, we cut broom brushes, or buck brushes, and spread 
them on the ground for beds. Each couple prepared its own bed, 
choosing any convenient place not far from the campfire. We cut a great 
deal of dried grass with our knives and ‘placed a pile of it at one end of 
each bed for a pillow. For our own bed, my husband and I spread a 
robe with the fur up and two robes to use as covers, which he laid fur 
down. These covering robes we laid over us with the head toward our 
feet and the tail toward our heads. When the men went to bed, they for- 
sook the fire which sometimes went out; but very often we found coals in 
the ashes the next morning with which we built the fire up again. Al- 
though we slept in the open air, we followed our usual custom in disposing 
of our clothing for the night. The men took off their shirts, leggings, and 
moccasins, but the women removed only their moccasins and leggings. 


Rescue of Awa-hitsi-kuwac. After breakfast the next morning I 
went down to the river with a tin pail for water. As I came to the edge 
of the higher bank overlooking the river, I saw that big chunks of ice 
nearly filled it. I was much surprised, for heretofore, the river had been 
quite free of ice. There was very little wind, but as the current was quite 
swift, the big ice cakes rubbing and grating together, and the noise of the 
water made a loud continuous roar. When the Missouri River is running 
ice all the mid current is filled, but near the banks where there are sand- 
bars, or in the shallow water, there is no ice, since here the water is 
not deep enough to float the ice. On the side on which we were encamped 
was a shallow margin:-of this kind, free of ice. I now saw, out near the 
edge of the floating ice, two bull-boats, tied together as hunters tie them, 
with a woman alone in the foremost, paddling hard. She was just inside 
the edge of the floating masses of ice and was trying desperately to keep 
away from the threatening chunks. As the margin of the ice-free water 
was quite narrow, she was not very far from shore. I ran down to the 
sandbank and as the woman recognized me called out, ‘‘My daughter, 
catch me!” and held out her paddle. I caught it and drew her to the 
bank; she sprang out, catching her boat by the rim. I seized one boat 
and she grasped the second with her left hand, while with the right she 
caught up her bundles of dried meat and threw them out on the sandbar. 
This second bank, as I have said, was about two feet higher than the 
water and about six feet wide at this point. 


260 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


The woman was Awa-hitsi-kuwac, or He-lies-on-a-red-hill. She was 
James Baker’s grandmother and my friend. Awa-hitsi-kuwac was older 
than I and a married woman; her husband’s name was Short-bull; her 
father was Kakti-ttsic, or Dried-squash. 

The other women of our camp now came out and helped us carry my 
friend’s bundles up to camp. This was easily done, for our camp was 
only about thirty yards away, for we had slept in the open without a tent. 

‘““My husband and I,” she said, ‘‘were hunting. After we had killed 
meat and dried it, we loaded these two boats and I went down the 
river with them while my husband went along the shore with our horses. 
We appointed a place to camp, but when I arrived there I did not find 
him.” 3 
When I returned to the village I found how all this had happened. 
Owing to the fact that the river began to run ice, or for some other reason, 
Awa-hitsi-kuwae was unable to make the speed she expected down the 
river and her husband arrived at the place appointed for a camp before 
~ she did. Short-bull waited for his wife and when she did not appear he 
thought she had passed him and gone ahead down the river. He went to 
the second camping place where they had agreed to meet, but again she did 
not come. Her husband became alarmed and made his way upstream 
again to search for her. He found the river filled with floating ice. “My 
wife is drowned,” he thought, and went down the river to Like-a-fish- 
hook village to tell her father. 

Kakui-titsic was very fond of his daughter and when he heard that 
she was dead he took her basket, put it on his back, and went through the 
village, weeping and wailing. He wanted to jump into the Missouri 
River and drown himself, but the people held him back. Kakti-ttsic 
carried the basket out of memory for his daughter. I do not know what it 
was that he cried out when he went wailing through the village, but know- 
ing Indian customs, I suspect that what he said was something like this: 
“Awa-hitsi-kuwac! ikixpa 4wakafwi-hii!”’ that is, ‘‘Awa-hitsi-kuwac, 
I will never see her again.” 

Awa-hitsi-kuwac remained with us in camp all that day and the 
next also. The third morning, the river was free of ice and she loaded her 
boats and paddled off. The rest of us remained in camp that day, but the 
next morning we also loaded our bull-boats and started down the river. 

We had no serious mishap of any kind. At night we landed and 
made an open camp, not troubling to put up our tent. We spread dried 
willows on the ground. Each couple placed their bundles of meat on the 
willows and covered the pile with a bull-boat turned over it, mouth down. 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 261 


These sticks were just the small dead willows sometimes with the bark 
on or sometimes fallen off. Enough of them were gathered to cover the 
ground well where the dried meat was to be piled for the night. 

Twice in my life, as I recollect, I have been with a party that camped 
at this place where I am now living and which we now call Independence. 
Both times we unloaded our bundles of dried meat and piled them on the 
- sandy shore near the river, each pile of meat with a bull-boat turned over 
it. The party climbed up the steep bank and camped for the night on the 
higher ground where grass grew. The place where we camped is now my 
son Goodbird’s garden. The river, at that time, ran close to the steep 
bank, but there was a sandy shore with scattered small stones. The steep 
bank by the river was just as it is now. 

As I have said, we floated down the river, but when we came to the 
place we now call Independence, we found a camp which four Mandan 
Indians were just forsaking. They were Foolish-head, Little-bull, 
Wooden-nose, and Enemy’s-head. Little-bull’s wife, Turtle-woman, the 
only woman in the camp, was also with him. 

Their boats were all loaded, ready to embark. When we passed, 
they pushed out into the current and soon caught up with us. They 
told us they had seen Awa-hitsi-kuwac go by in her boat. The united 
party floated down the river until we reached a point about two miles 
below what is now Elbowoods. Here we found the current of the river 
was searcely running and the water backing up the shore. When we 
rounded the point, we saw where the trouble lay. The ice floating down 
the river had jammed and had bridged the river from side to side, making 
a kind of dam. We heard the report of a gun and a voice called to us from 
the north shore. Two white men stood on the bank, waving handkerchiefs. 
We paddled across the river and landed where they stood. We found two 
white men, one of them named Spots, who had married an Arikara 
woman. The Indians called him Spots because his face was freckled. 
The second white man had married a Blackfoot woman named Flat-nose. 
These two white men each had a flat boat loaded with buffalo robes and 
dried skins. With the two white men was Awa-hitsi-kuwac or He-lies-on- 
a-red-hill. 

Arrival at the Village. We landed here some time after noon. This 
place was about fifteen miles from Like-a-fish-hook village. While the 
rest of our party waited, one of our men went down to the village and 
notified our relatives, who returned with horses and pack saddles to 
transport our meat to the village. These pack saddles were made with 
horn frames. It took four horses to pack the baggage of myself and 


262 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


husband to the village and about the same number for the baggage of 
each of the other couples of our original party. Our dogs transported the 
bull-boats on travois. The horses from the village reached us about noon 
the next day. The whole party arrived at Like-a-fish-hook village just 
at sunset. Awa-hitsi-kuwac reached the village safely to the great joy of 
her father. 


A TRIBAL HUNT TO THE YELLOWSTONE IN AUTUMN. 


Having presented a narrative illustrating dog culture, we may com- 
plete the picture by describing a hunting party using both horses and 
dogs. They set out in the autumn and the route was from the Hidatsa 
village to the Yellowstone River. It is inevitable that since both horses 
and dogs were used on the journey, some additional information is given 
_ concerning the handling of dogs and horses and there may be some dupli- 
cation. Nevertheless, we have thought it best to give the whole narra- 
tive, as it appears to be the only narrative account of a tribal migration 
during the transition period from dog to horse culture. 

The informant is again Buffalo-bird-woman, speaking in August, 
1913. The time of the hunt was about the year 1869. 

Choosing a Leader. The people at Like-a-fish-hook village had seen 
no buffalo herds for seven years, when word was brought to them that 
there were buffalo far up on the Missouri. ‘‘ We will go and seek them,’’ 
the hunters said. All the village, Hidatsa and Mandan, prepared for the 
~ hunt. 

First, it was necessary to choose a leader; but this was not always 
easy, since our people expected that no misfortune would befall them 
while on the hunt. They did not wish anyone to die and wanted to obtain 
plenty of buffalo meat and be lucky in everything they undertook. If 
misfortune befell them, the leader would be blamed, of course. 

The men of the Black Mouth Society,! collected a quantity of goods 
from the people and with this for payment, sought to hire a leader. 
They went from lodge to lodge in a body, four of their number carrying 
the great bundle of calicoes, blankets, war-bonnet, guns, and other 
gifts. They offered these gifts successively to several owners of medicine — 
bundles, men whose prayers were known to be strong. One after another, 
they refused the leadership. 

The Black Mouths came at last to Edi-Akatac, or Belly-up, and said 
to him, ‘‘We want you to be our leader.”’ ‘‘I will be your leader,” he 
answered, ‘‘but I want you to choose another to act with me.” So the 
Black Mouths gave half the gifts to Small-horn, saying, ‘‘We want you 
to be leader also, for we wish to have two leaders for this hunt.’’ Both 
men were Hidatsa. This is the only time I ever knew two leaders to be 
chosen for the same hunt. They led on alternate days. 

It was the duty of the leaders to notify the people of the time for 
departure. Red-kettle, acting as herald, went through the village, cry- 


1See this series, vol. 11, 274-280. 
: 263 


264 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


ing, ‘‘ Five days hence, we will set out on a hunt. Everybody get ready.”’ 
This early notification gave the people plenty of time to bury their valu- 
ables in the cache pits. The evening before the start, Red-kettle, again 
went through the village, crying, “Tomorrow we move,” and again in the 
morning, he went around, calling, “Take the tents down.” 

The two leaders paid the crier, I think, from the gifts that had been 
given them. I remember, once when my father was leader, he appointed 
Has-a-game-stick as crier, and paid him. 

Goodbird adds:— 


My father, Son-of-a-star, was once leader. He chose Belly-up as crier and paid 
him for his services. 


Butterfly adds:— 


I was on that journey. I was twenty-one years old then. Iam now sixty-six. 


Vehicles. We went forward in a long line over the prairie. The 
leader for the day went ahead and whoever was ready followed immedi- 
ately after him, some on foot and some on horseback, while a few rode on 
horse travois.!_ Only a few of our horses had travois as I do not think this 
method of transportation was as popular among the Hidatsa as among 
other tribes from whom we learned its use. However, we had a good 
many horses; no family was without them. Some men had two,some three, 
and some as many as twenty. Big-cloud and Garter-snake-coat each had 
about eighty, I think. A man and a woman did not ride the same horse, 
though very often two children rode in that fashion, especially for a short 
distance. Saddle bags filled with baggage were carried by many of the 
horses while a man or a woman rode in the saddle. A medicine bundle 
might be carried in front of the saddle bound to the head. There were 
only two wagons in the village; they were owned by Black-hawk and 
Raise-heart, and were each drawn by two horses. 

Order of March. We followed a single trail, sometimes two men or 
two women walked side by side, talking; sometimes they walked in 
single file. No one was allowed to precede the leader. If anyone in line 
stopped for any reason, to make repairs in his saddle, for instance, the 





1Brackenridge, ibid., 177, writes of the Mandan:— 

They sometimes go out on hunting parties by whole villages, as was the case at present. They 
appeared to be about 500 in number, some on horseback, the greater part on foot. A numerous train of 
dogs were employed in dragging their baggage, tent poles, etc. E ‘ 

The following extracts from Boller (ibid.) are also of interest in this connection. 

“. . . We quickly fell in with the grand cavalcade of warriors, mounted and on foot; horses draw- 
ing loaded travées, upon which were sometimes tied two or three children, and as many puppies, clinging 
together with the most ludicrous tenacity. 

Dogs also dragged their full share upon miniature travées, occasionally joining in a grand skirmish 
with their unemployed companions, usually resulting in the complete rout of the latter.’’ (177.) 

“Indian dogs, like their wolfish progenitors, are exceedingly cowardly, all bark and none bite; but 
the moment one is harnessed to his travée, conscious of the protection it affords him, he becomes very 
quarrelsome, and when a number get together they make ‘the hair fly’ to some purpose.”’ (177-178.) 


» 1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 265 






N 
y ESS 
er | aN 





fae eran Bae Tent: marked so- Xx is 
Buffalo Bird Woman's 


Fig. 87. Sketch Map of Camp on a Sandbar where Goodbird was born. 


line passed around him and when ready he joined again, falling in at any 

convenient place. Families stayed together on the march. The younger 

men went ahead, scattering in the hills and in the timber to hunt deer 

and antelope, returning in the evening with any meat they had procured. 
Goodbird adds :— 


In the winter, in deep snows, hunters walked in single file and took turns in 
breaking a trail through the snow. Of course, we did not do this during this hunt as it 
did not take place in the winter. 

Our first camp was near a lake about six miles from Like-a-fish-hook 
village. (I can only name the camps, but my son, Goodbird, can give 
you the distances in miles, fairly accurately.) Then we camped at a place 
called Narrow Hill, two miles up the river from Like-a-fish-hook Village. 


266 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


We obtained our water from a creek about a mile north and also from a 
spring called Mahéaktxabuac, or Noisy Spring, about a mile west of the 
camp. Our third camp was at a place called Good Point, thirty-five 
miles up the river from Fort Berthold, or Like-a-fish-hook Village. Our 
next five camps were at Shell Creek, eight miles from Good Point; at 
upper Knife River, fifteen miles from Shell Creek; at Crow Paunch Pit 
on the Banks of the Missouri; at Flint Steel Creek; and at Yellow 
Water Pond which was a particularly good camping place. Here we 
drank of the pond water. 

Our next camp after this was near the mouth of the Yellowstone 


outside of Fort Buford, toward the river, where there were a great many ° 


soldiers. The soldiers came down to look at our camp and seemed to be 
very good people. Many of them gave coins to the children, five and ten 
cent pieces. We bought some flour here; before this, at other camps, we 
had eaten deer and antelope meat and corn. We camped here three 
nights. Then we moved five miles up the Missouri and camped again for 
three nights. We then moved two miles down the Missouri where we 
found a sandbar at a narrow place in the river where there was a good 
crossing. 

Our Camp on the Sandbar. About noon, we camped on the sand- 
bar. There were about one hundred buffalo skin tipis in the camp. 
When we camped in a good level place it was customary to pitch the 
tipis in a big circle, and if the wind was calm when we pitched camp all 
the tipi doors faced the center of the circle. However, if we were camped 
along a creek that. had a narrow bank, or in any other place where a 
circle could not be easily formed, the tipis were set up in rows or whatever 
other arrangement the formation of the land compelled. If there was a 
stiff wind blowing a tipi was pitched with the door away from the wind. 

A rude map of our camp on the sandbar is shown in Fig. 87. Be- 
cause of the shape and narrowness of the sandbar it was impossible to 
have a camp circle so that our tipis stood as shown in the map. 

Our horses were herded half a mile away on the other side of a stretch 
of timber that skirted the sandbar. During the day, the horses were 
guarded, but at night, they were hobbled and left to themselves. When 
the time came for a family to cross the river, their horses were brought in 
from the herd. 

Turning a Tipi. Camped thus in a tipi, if a windstorm arose and it 
became necessary to turn the tipi with the door away from the wind, my 
husband and I and two or three neighbors, who were invited to help us, 
could very easily turn it around. Sometimes five persons and sometimes 


il ales 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 267 


seven or more turned the tipi; the larger number could handle it better, 
though if there were people enough to hold the foundation poles steadily 
that was sufficient. 

First, the pins that held the cover to the ground on the outside were 
pulled up. Then, we went inside the tipi, picked up the four foundation 
poles and the one to which the cover was tied and moved the poles and 





Fig. 90 ; Fig. 91 


Fig. 88. Method of Driving Stakes into the Ground to hold the 
Anchor Rope of a Tipi. 
Fig. 89. Roasting Buffalo Thigh Bones before the Tipi Fire. 
Fig. 90. Making Fire with a Wooden Drill. 
Fig. 91. a, Goodbird’s Wrapping, as a Baby, on the March; b, The 
Tie for the Thong binding the Baby Bundle. 
the cover at the same time. The rest of the poles were now shifted about 
as was necessary. If the five poles were held firmly while they were 
moved about there was no danger that the tipi would fall down. 
A Mandan tipi could be raised and turned by four persons since its 
foundation was of but three poles. 
Anchoring the Tipi. During a windstorm it was often necessary to 
anchor the tipi to prevent it from being blown over. For this purpose a 


268 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


rawhide lariat was passed around the poles, inside and under the tipi 
cover, and the ends were drawn together in a noose. The noose was 
pushed up by means of a forked stick to the point where the poles con- 
verged, and drawn taut. Then the loose end of the lariat was drawn 
downward and tied to a pin driven into the ground, four or five feet from 
the fireplace, toward the windward side of the tent. Very often two pins 
were driven into the ground and crossed as in Fig. 88. If the tipi were 
very large, it might be anchored with a second lariat on the outside. 

In a Mandan tipi, a lariat always hung in the center in readiness for 
astorm. The Mandan three-pole tie was weaker than our Hidatsa four- 
pole tie and for that reason a lariat was passed around all the poles at the 
tie. In the Hidatsa tipis this was unnecessary, except in a heavy wind- 
storm, since our poles locked at the top. 

The Fireplace. Our fireplace was in the center of the tipi on the 
level ground. Five or six stones were placed around the fire; upon these 
we roasted meat. We never used white stones, for they cracked with the 
heat. The stones were placed far enough apart so we could roast the 
thigh bone of a buffalo before the fire (Fig. 89). We cut the tough outer 
flesh from the thigh, leaving the more tender flesh still clinging to the 
bone, and this was laid near the fire, the two ends resting on two stones. 
When the meat was roasted and had been cut off, the bone was cracked 
open and the marrow pried out with a chokecherry stick and eaten with 
the meat. 

We also roasted a cow udder on a stone before the fire, turning it 
over to roast it on both sides. We thought a roasted udder full of milk a 
great delicacy. 

In my time, we carried metal kettles with us. I do not know whether 
our old-fashioned pottery vessels were ever taken on a journey; they 
were never so taken in my lifetime. 

The Fire. The fireplace was surrounded by stones only when wood 
was scarce and buffalo chips were used for fuel, but when it was abundant 
the kettle was set directly on the coals and the meat roasted on wooden 
spits. When we camped on the prairie, however, we could obtain no 
wood, and made our fire of buffalo chips. In that case, we roasted our 
meat on stones (p. 235). 

On this trip we used matches to start a fire, but on other trips my 
father, Small-ankle, started fire with flint and steel. He carried his fire- 
making implements at his belt over his right hip. These consisted of a 
sharp flint two and one-half inches in diameter and a semicircle made | 
from an old steel file which was slipped like a ring over the fingers of the 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 269 
right hand. He held the flint in his left hand and under it laid a little 
piece of dried puff ball that had been moistened slightly and rubbed on 
the surface with gunpowder. A spark struck off by the steel set fire to 
the puff ball. Sometimes he used very soft rotten wood instead of a puff 
ball. 

In very old times, the Hidatsa produced fire with a wooden drill. 
Though I have never seen this done, I know from the old stories that the 
drill was held in the two palms and twirled back and forth. In Fig. 90 
Goodbird has made a sketch of how I think this must have been done. I 
have heard they used cottonwood for the base and I think the drill must 
have been of hard wood, but I do not know certainly. 

When the puff ball had caught fire it was placed in a little bunch of 
shredded dry grass which was then waved back and forth in the air to fan 
the flame. As I remember, Small-ankle did not strike the spark upon one 
whole puff ball, but carried in his fire bag a number of these powder- 
prepared bits of puff ball. 

In our lodges in Like-a-fish-hook village, the fire was smothered at 
night. If it became extinguished by any accident, the woman went to a 
neighbor who had a fire and got some coals. We followed the same cus- 
tom when in camp. 

Use of the Heart Skin. When on a journey, we always carried a 
buffalo heart skin with us for fetching water. For use, the heart skin was 
turned wrong side out, exposing to the weather the smooth surface next 
to the heart. There was still another use for the heart skin. Unused 
roasted meat to be eaten as lunch on the road or meat that was to be 
carried to the next camp was very often carried in it (p. 159). The heart 
skin was a recognized lunch bag. | 

Goodbird’s Birth. It wasin November, as nearly as I can remember, 
that we made our camp on the sandbar.! We did not know the months 
of the year as accurately as white men do, but I remember that the 
moon was in the last quarter. .I am not sure that when we say last 
quarter we mean just what the white people mean. What I mean is that 
the moon was a thin half circle shaped like a bow. We have three terms 
to express the waxing and waning of the moon: midi-kaktaits, or “moon 
round,” meaning a full moon; médi-kidé'hits, or ‘‘moon gets up,” that is, 
raises itself or resurrects itself; and midi-tehits, or ‘‘moon dead.” 

It was known to everyone in the tipi that I was to give birth to a 
child; so everyone, but me, my father, Small-ankle, and Strikes-many- 


1A ccording to the belief of the informant this was seven years before the Custer battle, or about 1869. 


270 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


women went away from the tipi. My husband, Son-of-a-star, went to stay 
with his brother, Red-stone. My child was born a little before sunrise. 
Son-of-a-star was in a tent nearby and heard the ery of the child. 
Later he told me, ‘‘I was very happy when I heard the cry of my babe.” 
A piece of an old robe cut out for the purpose was put down on the floor 
and over it a cloth was laid; the baby was laid on top of this and bound 
up. On the outside, a soft calfskin was wrapped around him, or sometimes 
a wildeat skin, but this was done only on the march when there was 
danger that he would be chilled by the wind. Two wildcat skins and one 
calfskin were kept for the baby’s use, to serve him as a robe does, for an 
outer dress. The calfskin and wildcat skin were arranged like a hood over 
the child’s head and turned fur side in. A wildcat skin has soft warm fur 
and was a good wrapping to keep a child warm. Fig. 91a 1s a sketch of 
Goodbird’s wrapping on the march. It will be noted that the wildcat 
skin is folded over his head like a hood. He is tied with only a single 
band. Fig. 91b shows the tie for the thong that bound the cradle bundle. 
After the fourth day, the cradle bundle! was bound with three ties.’ 
Corn Mortars. Some of the members of our hunting party brought 
with them the heavy wooden mortars and pestles they used when in the 
village. The majority of the families, however, contented themselves 
with carrying with them only the pestle and constructed a mortar of 
buffalo skin, cut square, as in Fig. 92a. The skin for this mortar was 
taken from the dried hip skin of a buffalo bull and pounded with an ax to 
remove the hair (Fig. 94). A saddle blanket, or saddle skin, was spread 
on the ground, and the skin laid on it, fur side up. Then the whole 
surface was pounded with a scraping motion and the hair removed. 
Later, it was rubbed with a stone to remove any stumps of hair remain- 
ing on the skin. This de-hairing process is still in use on this reservation. 
The skin square was then folded over and the lower corners trimmed as in 
Fig. 92b. Then it was sewed together at the edges to make the form shown 
in Fig. 92c. A hole was dug in the ground and in this the skin mortar was 
snugly fitted. In Fig. 92c, the mortar is shown in use; it will be noted: 
that the pestle was used in the same way as in the wooden mortar. This 
type of skin mortar was used to pound parched corn and dried meat, 





1By cradle bundle, I mean the wrappings of a babe under a year old. The wooden cradle used by 
so many tribes, seems to have fallen into disuse among the Hidatsa, if indeed it ever was in common use 
by them. .Such at least is Buffalo-bird-woman’s opinion.—G. L. W. 

2Bufftalo-bird-woman’s explanation here seems a little obscure. The drawing which Goodbird made 
and which was approved by her, is shown in Fig. 91a. There seems to be but one tie, instead of two, as 
shown in Fig. 91b. Whether this is an error, or whether Fig. 910 is counted as a three-tie binding such as 
was used after the fourth day, does not seem plain. I am inclined to think that the cradle bundle, Fig. 
91a, should receive the two-tie thong shown in Fig. 916, and that Goodbird in the former figure has either 
ree oS else has not completed the tie because the smallness of the figure made it difficult to draw.— 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. ZEA. 


especially meat that was partly toasted and dried over a fire. Such dried 
meat was pounded and mixed with bone grease for the old people whose 
teeth were well worn. 

As I have said, the pestle was brought from Like-a-fish-hook Village. 
It was carried on a dog travois, resting with the smaller end forward and 
bound to the travois cushion while the larger end rested on the travois 
basket (Fig. 93). 





Fig. 94 





A C 
Fig. 95 
Fig. 92. Construction of a Buffalo Skin Corn Mortar. 
Fig. 938. How a Pestle was carried on a Dog Travois. 
Fig. 94. Removing the Hair from a Buffalo Hide to make a Corn Mortar. 
Fig. 95. Construction and Tie for a Buffalo Skin Bag. 


Crossing the River. The morning after the birth of my son, the 
people began to cross the Missouri River. I do not know who went first, 
though I do not think it was necessarily the leader. In all probability it 
was some family whose boat was ready who led the way merely because 
they were the first to complete their preparations. I do not remember 
whether there was more than one boat in the river at a time, or not, 
though probably there was. 

Our family crossed in Small-ankle’s bull-boat which we had brought 

with us. My husband, Son-of-a-star, helped me in crossing, paddling, 
while I sat in the boat and held my baby. Usually, the women paddled 


PH i Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


the bull-boat. Our tent poles, tied in a bundle, were fastened to one of 
the ribs of the boat, and floated behind. In addition, a horse travois and 
a dog travois were floated over in the same way. 

Our horses were made to swim over. One of them was ted by a 
halter, or bridle, made of a lariat, and our other horses followed of their 
own accord. In each bunch of horses, there was usually a leader, very 
often an old mare; it was the leader of the herd that was bridled while 
swimming over, and the rest followed. . 

We camped on the bank on the other side, which we found quite 
steep, much like the bank of the Missouri River at Independence. Fora 
hasty meal, we parched corn and pounded it in a skin mortar. 

We camped here three days, awaiting the crossing of the rest of the 
people. Our next camp was at Gun-hanging Hill where a son was born 
to an Hidatsa woman named Buffalo-woman. She named her child 
Many-birds. The next day we entered the Bad Lands. At our camp in 
the Bad Lands White-cherry gave birth to a babe. Our next camp after 
we left the Bad Lands was at Three-peak hill. 

Pack Animals and Their Loads. On this trip our family had, for 
pack animals, two horses, two mules, and three dogs. Both horses were 


ponies, since big! horses were very scarce in the tribe at this time. Mules” 


were also scarce and were valued because of their strength. The two 
mules and three dogs each dragged a travois; one of the ponies dragged 
six, and the other, eight tent poles, but no travois. Before I describe 
these seven animals and their packs, I will explain the construction of the 
bags we used for transporting our possessions. Skins that were to be 
made into bags had to be prepared carefully. A tent skin was of no value 
for a packing bag. 

The first type of bag was of unsmoked buffalo skin with the hair 
removed, dressed and oiled with buffalo brains and liver (Fig. 95). 
Fig. 95a presents the folded skin, ready for sewing; Fig. 95b, the 
completed bag with the two flaps for the mouth; Fig. 95c is the sack, 
filled and tied. In folding the two flaps at the mouth of this bag, both 
were turned over to one side and one flap was not turned into the inside 
of the bag. The bag was tied with a thong in three ties. It was about 2% 
feet long and about 15 inches in diameter. For this journey we filled it 
with ripe corn on the ear and dried squash. We did not use this type of 


bag for shelled corn. We believe that this form is peculiar to the Indians 3 


of this Reservation. 


1By ‘big’? horses Buffalo-bird-woman means American horses as distinguished from the small K 


Indian pony. 


at ae ail 


4 
é 
% 
q 
is 





1924. ] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 213 


The second form of bag isthe one used for shelled corn (Fig. 96). These 
were made in pairs like saddle bags and were united by a band in the 
middle about fifteen inches long. Each of the two bags was about fifteen 
inches wide at the bottom and tapered somewhat to the top. In Fig. 
96A is shown the folded skin; the bag roughly cut and sewed is seen in 
Fig. 96B while Fig. 96C presents the completed bag. For a short journey, 
the bags were filled and tied at the mouth (Fig. 96D); but if this type of 
bag was to be carried on a long journey, the mouths of the two bags were 
sewed. They held shelled corn and were thrown over the horse’s saddle 
like saddle bags. 7 


Fig. 96. Construction of a Double Bag used for Shelled Corn. 
Fig. 97. Making a Buffalo Calfskin Bag; A, B, skinning; C, inflating; 
D, drying; E, the completed bag. , 


Figos B 





The third form was a calfskin sack. The following description 
applies to the one we carried with us on this hunt. 

About midwinter, or the February before we set out on this hunt, 
Small-ankle brought in a calf whose hair had just begun to grow. Strikes- 
many-women hung the calf to the drying pole by the neck. With a knife 
she made an incision quite around the neck just behind the ears and drew | 
the skin backwards and downward, working with her knife and fingers. 
It was always hard to pull the skin over the shoulders of the carcass 
without cutting it; but this done, the rest of the work was easy. The leg 
skins were encircled with a knife just above the hoofs and taken off whole 
(Figs.97A andB ). Then the four legs were sewed up with sinew thread. 
The vent was skewered with a small stick woven in and out of the lips, 
and bound shut with sinew passed just under the stick as in the case of 
the vent in a bull-boat skin (p. 285). The tail was skinned entire, without 


274 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


breaking or cutting it; the neck too was sewed up, excepting a very small 
aperture left to blow in. The skin thus sewed was green and turned with 
the fur inside. _ 

Strikes-many-women took the skin and blowing through the little 
hole she had left in it, filled it with air (Fig.97c). Then she caught the lips 
of the aperture between her thumb and finger, and holding them tight, 
sewed them up with sinew. To one of the ends of the sewing sinew used 
to close the neck, she bound the end of a rawhide lariat and hung the 


skin on the drying pole of the earth-lodge (Fig. 97d). When the skin had — 


dried, it was taken down, and the sinew threads of the neck seam cut. 


The air was expelled and the skin worked with the hands to soften it. — 


Finally, since a buffalo calf neck is quite narrow, it was split down one 


side level with the shoulder and a mouth of old tent skin, shaped somewhat — 
like a funnel, sewed into it. Then a buckskin thong was sewed on one ~ 
side of the neck to be used in tying it. Strikes-many-women was very— 

skilful at making bags like these. I can remember six of these bags that — 


she made. 


When the skin was softened and ready to receive the corn, it was | 
turned fur side out again. It will be noted that the mouth of the bag — 


shown in Fig. 97e was sewed into the bag after it was turned fur out. 


The First Mule. All our mules were called A’pi’tia or Big-ears. — 


The two mules we took with us on the tribal hunt were called, A’p-i’tia 


aku-mik4c, mule of lower or less stature; and A’p-i’-tia aku-i tiac, or Big- — 


mule. The smaller of the two mules was loaded as follows:— 


The first morning we saddled the mule. Over the saddle, we threw — 


a double bag filled with shelled ripe soft white corn (ataki, soft). The — 
bag was similar to the one described-in Fig. 96. On each side of the — 
saddle was a parfleche filled with strings of dried squash and soft white 


corn on the ear. Parfleche bags were the shape of an envelope, eighteen — 
inches wide and thirty inches long. It took one whole side of a buffalo | 
cowhide to make a parfleche. Topping the mule’s load, was a calfskin — 


sack, like that described in Fig. 97, filled with dried half-boiled green 


corn, of the soft white variety. Over this was laid a tanned buffalo bull — 


skin folded into a rectangle, hair side in, to prevent the travois thong from ” 


wearing out the calfskin bag. This robe was also used during the night 
for a sleeping robe. All these packs were bound down upon the back of 


the mule and made taut. Finally, the travois, its thong lying across the — 
bull skin robe, was flung over the saddle. The travois itself had tied to — 
it a hoe and an ax (Fig. 98) with a bull-boat bound mouth down over 


them. The blades of the hoe and the ax were thrust into a sack like that 


* 
= 
a 
a 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 2719 


shown in Fig. 95 and the bundle was lashed at the head end to the upper 
rim of the travois basket. No lashing was attached to the handle of 
either the ax or hoe. Sometimes these tools were lashed to the basket 
without thrusting the blades into a sack, in which case they were bound 
on so that the sharp edges of the blades hung over the upper rim, toward 
the ground. 





Fig. 101 





Fig. 98. Travois with Bull-Boat, Hoe, and Ax tied to It. (The bull-boat and 
travois basket lacings are not drawn.) 

Fig. 99. Diagram of Horse Travois. The following measurements were care- 
fully worked out by Buffalo-bird-woman and apply to the lettered parts as desig- 
nated: a-b, 8 inches; b-i, 22 inches; o-k, 5 feet 3 inches; a-e, 13 feet 3 inches; e-f, 
4 feet 3 inches; l-p, 4 feet 6 inches; a-c, 6 feet 6 inches; c-d, 1 foot 17 inches; d-e, 
5 feet 5 inches; n-q, 4 inches; k-l, 2 feet 9 inches; m-n, 3 feet 10 inches. 

Fig. 100. Travois Thong Tie. 

Fig. 101. Travois Thong Tie as made when Speed was desired. 


The Travois. In Fig. 99 is shown a diagram of a horse travois. 
Though the description applies specifically to travois used on mules, the 
size of every horse travois was about the same. The measurements 
will be given in English denominations, for I will lay these two long poles 
on the floor and coil this piece of rope around-in the size and shape of 
the travois basket and from these you may take the measurements. If 


276 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


you read the inches right, as I help you with this yard stick, I am sure 
there can be no mistake. 

The travois frame was of ash. The ends of the basket hoop were 
always lashed together so as to place the joint at k or 1, as in the diagram 
(Fig. 99) but never at m or n. The ash pole for the hoop should be 
twelve feet long, allowing one and one half feet to make the joint nine 
inches long. Of course, since the tw6 ends of the hoop overlapped to 
make the joint the latter would be just one half the extra eighteen inches 
allowed. The basket was bound to the travois poles at c, d, g, and h 
(Fig. 99). About eight inches from the smaller end of the travois poles 
was a groove to receive the thong by which the travois was slung over 
the saddle. The travois thong tie is shown in Figs. 100 and 101. The 
nooses, Fig. 100c, d are each slipped into the groove on the travois pole. 
These grooves are not marked in the figure. The end, Fig. 100a, is now 
carried back to the left pole around it and the noose (Fig. 100c) with a 
simple knot as shown in Fig. 101. If speed is required, the end, Fig. 101a, 
is carried under the horse’s belly and tied to the right hand pole just 
under the right hand noose (Figs. 100d, 101d). The end (Figs. 100b and 
1016), is allowed to hang free. 

If a long journey is contemplated, the end (Fig. 100a and 101a) is 
first knotted to the binding cord of the left side of the pack, if one is 
carried, and then passed under the horse’s belly and tied, as before, to 
the an hand travois pole, while the end (Figs. 100b and 1016) is knotted 
to the cord on the right side of the pack. 

The Bull-Boat. Over the travois carried by this mule was lashed 
a bull-boat made fast by thongs that passed around the boat and bound 
it down in four places on the travois poles (Fig. 102). Each of these 
thongs also passed under the rim of the boat and under one of its ribs 
and was then tied to the travois pole. This further secured the boat and 
made it fast. In lashing a bull-boat to a travois it was customary to turn 
the travois upside down, lash the boat at the corners, and reverse. The 
paddle was bound on at the top as shown in Fig. 102. 

When I made a cowskin bull- boat, I measured the upper hoop from 
my eyebrows to the ground. The bull-boat I am describing had an al- 
most perfectly round frame, but I remember the old time frame had a 
slightly more acute angle in front (Fig. 103). 


The mule whose load I have described was either driven or led. If 


the road was good, the animal was driven, but if we were passing through 
a coulée, on the side of a hill, or through timber, the mule was led. He 
was a castrated male, as was also the other one we took with us. I 
never knew a mule to give birth to a colt. 


; 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture: 2707 


We bought this mule from the Sioux. One of the Sioux said, ‘‘ Any- 
one who gives me a horse and some corn may have this mule. I do not 
care what kind of a horse it is, if I get some corn with it.” I heard what 
this Dakota said and I and my husband went to see him, for he was then 
visiting our village. We gave them a pony, a gelding that was lazy, and 
four strings of soft white corn, one half bushel of boiled green corn, and 
about fifteen pounds of beans. I wanted this mule because one can pack 
so much more on a mule than on a pony. This mule was my own 
property. 

The Second Mule. The larger mule that we called Big-mule was a 
dark bay, a gelding, like the smaller mule in color. It belonged to Strikes- 
many-women, though at first Red-white-buffalo owned it. He gave it to 





where poles | 
were tied 
Fig:'O05 ry 


Ig: 


Fig. 102. Method of lashing Bull-Boat to a Horse Travois. . 
Fig. 108. Form of Old Type of Bull-Boat. 
Fig. 104. A Saddle with Two Double Bags filled with Provisions hung on It. 
Fig. 105. Arrangement of Bags and Tent Poles for Transportation. 


his daughter, Otter or Midapdkéc, Wolf-chief’s wife, who in turn gave it 
to Strikes-many-women. Otter loaded the mule. She put on her saddle, 
then two double bags (Fig. 96), one filled with sugar and one with coffee 
(Fig. 104). On either side she placed a bag similar to that shown in Fig. 95. 
The bags, sugar, and coffee she brought from her parents. All these were 
lashed down upon the animal in the usual way. Over the whole was 
placed a travois on which was a bag similar to Fig. 95 which probably 
contained skins for moccasins, sewing thread, etc., two pillows, three half 
hide robes, and one half skin. These were all folded and tied to the basket 
hoop with a lariat drawn back and forth over the back. The pillows were 
all of cloth, stuffed with antelope hair or geese, duck, or prairie-chicken 
feathers. We never used eagle feathers for stuffing pillows as these birds 
were sacred. 


278 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


The Ponies. We took two ponies for pack animals, one carried 
eight and one ten! tent poles. 

The Eight-Pole Pony, Lashing Tent Poles. On either side of the 
saddle (Fig. 105A) this pony carried one parfleche and one skin bag 
similar to the one shown in Fig. 95. Fig. 105C gives a rear view of the 
bags, while a fifth bag which was very commonly placed in this position 
is shown on top. The round appearance of the lower sack (Fig. 105C) is 
due to the fact that it was full. A parfleche was considered better for 
the lower part of the pack as it was smooth and did not stay on the top 
of the animal’s back very well. The lower package was called itaké it- 
d’kiddtsé, pack on side. The upper package on either side was called 
itaki wtakdka (pack on top). In loading a pony as this one was loaded, 
the upper packages were often omitted and the pony ridden by some old 
man or old woman too feeble to walk, or by one or two small children. 
In that case, a robe was thrown over the parfleche and the saddle to give 
a comfortable seat to the rider. A woman rode in the same fashion as a 
man. } 

In Fig. 105C will be noted the poles dragged by the pony, as one half 
of them are lashed on either side of his back. The Assiniboin and the 
Sioux lashed their poles to the pony’s back in a manner different from 
our method. Some tribes even crossed the poles over the pony’s back. 
The Hidatsa invariably tied their poles as shown in Fig. 105C. Holes 
were pierced in the smaller ends of the poles, a thong drawn through, and 
the ends of the thong tied together, thus binding the poles in a loose ring. 
The poles were then lashed on.either side of the pony, as I have described 
(p. 193). . 

The name of this pony was Xazi-tsi-ac, or Gray-mottled. He was a 
gelding. 

Tying up a Tipi Cover. The pony carrying the six poles also carried 
the tent skin. When the tent was struck, the cover was untied from the 
rear pole and laid on the ground, weather side up (Fig. 1064). Then it 
was folded over once, weather side in (Fig. 1068) and the smoke hole end 
was folded once over (Fig. 106C). Each end of the package was suc- 
cessively folded over twice (Fig. 106D); the result is shown in Fig. 
106). Now the two sides, a and b, are folded together and each end is 
folded twice toward the center (Fig. 1077). A lariat is then passed around 
three times and tied (Fig. 107G) and the tent swung to the horse’s back. 
Then the free end of the lariat (Fig. 107G, E) was carried under the horse’s 


eee an error in translating. She speaks later of six poles being carried by the second pony.— 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 279 


belly and tied on the horse as shown in Fig. 108A. As has already been 
said, each of the tent poles had a hole at the smaller end through which 
a thong was drawn. The larger ends of the poles dragged loosely on the 
ground, spread fan shape. Sometimes one of these tent poles broke 
where it was pierced for drawing through the thong. In that case, a 
slight groove was cut into the pole as a substitute. This, of course, was 
done only in an emergency, the ordinary method was to perforate the 
end of the tent pole. 





Fig.107 





Fig. 106. Method of Folding a Tent Cover in Preparation for Loading. 
Fig. 107. A Tent Cover tied ready for Loading. 


As the tent cover lay on the horse, it made a load on either side of 
the animal, twelve inches thick, twenty-six inches long, and twenty-four 
inches wide, while the connecting portion that passed over the saddle 
was about eighteen inches long. The tie for the upper part of the pack- 
age, Fig. 107G, is shown in larger outline in Fig. 108B. 

When a pony carried a tent cover, no boy or older person ever rode it. 

This pony’s name was Pé’pé’s, meaning shaggy. She was a gray 
mare with a shaggy coat. | 

Other Horses, Saddle, Stirrup, and Method of Riding. Besides the 
two mules, and two ponies, we had four additional horses with us. I 
rode a black pony named Cipicac, or Blackie, a speedy horse that carried 
a flat saddle stuffed with antelope hair. The stirrups were of wood, 
covered with skin, and sewed. I made both the saddle and the stirrups. 


280 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


The saddles we used for racing! and for pursuing buffalo were all of this 
flat type. , 
I had neither travois nor pack on this horse. Very often, my hus- 
band went ahead to hunt; if he did not intend to go far away, he went 
afoot; but if he wished to go some distance away he rode this horse, while 









ya NUD 





Fig.11o0 


Fig. 108. Method of Loading and Tying Tent Cover on a Horse. 
Fig. 109. Sketch of Horse and Two Riders to show Robe tied 
over Legs of Two Boys, in Winter. 


Fig. 110. Sketch of Horse and Two Riders to show Position of 
Riders in Summer. 


I stayed in line and walked. Sometimes, while still following the line, 
we took turns in riding and walking. It. was the man’s business to go 
ahead and hunt deer or antelope when on the march. 


While riding this horse, I sometimes led and sometimes drove my 
mule, caring for it even when Son-of-a-star, my husband, rode the horse. 

My father, Small-ankle, went ahead and I followed. | 

Wolf-chief’s wife, Otter, rode a black pony with white legs and face. 
He was a gelding used in races and for buffalo hunting called Ita-takic, . 
or White-face. Otter also had a flat saddle and carried no burdens; and . 





For a good description of an Hidatsa horse race, see Boller, ibid., 66-67. 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 281 


she took turns with Wolf-chief in riding. Like my husband, Wolf-chief 
preceded the march from time to time to hunt. 

My two younger brothers, Red-kettle, ten years old, and Full-house,! 
seven years old, rode a three-year old blue? pony that carried a deer horn 
saddle and on either side bags filled with dried meat, like that shown in 
Fig. 95. 

As the hunters brought in meat at each camp, we cured it and added 
to our store in preparation for the next winter. At every camp we ate 
some of the food we had brought with us and so emptied the bags and 
parfleches ready to be filled with the freshly dried meat. 

A robe under Full-house was brought forward and tied by a thong 
~ over the legs of both boys (Fig. 109). Fig. 110 presents the way in which 
the two boys would have ridden in the summer time. In both figures it 
will be noted that the bags are beneath on either side. This custom of 
binding a robe about one in the winter time as is shown in Fig. 109 was 
often followed by a single rider as well as by two persons riding a pony. 
We called this pony, Dooic. 

My two mothers, Red-blossom and Strikes-many-women, had one 
horse which they took turns in riding. I have forgotten what color it was 
and whether it was a mare or a gelding. However, it was a two-year old 
and we always called such a horse ItawAdd-nupac, or Two-year-old. 
My father, Small-ankle, who died in 1888, being a hardy walker, rarely 
rode this horse. When he did so, it was on the march for he never rode 
ahead to hunt as did my husband and Wolf-chief. At the time of this 
hunting trip which I think took place in 1869, Small-ankle was fifty-nine 
years old. 

This horse, Itawada-nupac, carried one long double sack (Fig. 96), 
one side filled with beans, and the other with shelled ripe yellow corn. 
We used yellow corn for boiling with beans. 

Dogs and Packs. We had three dogs that dragged travois. 

The First Dog. My own dog was a castrated male, Uxi-tic, or Bob- 
tail. He was black and stood about twenty-two inches high, measuring 
from the ground to the level of his back just back of the shoulders. 

Dog Travois. The travois he bore was similar to the one shown in 
Fig. 111. The right hand pole (Fig. 111a-b) lay uppermost in every dog 
travois; in other words, wherever the two poles made a joint, the right 
hand pole lay upon the left hand pole. The buffalo hide cushion which 

1Goodbird says that the Hidatsa words for “‘ Full-heart”’ and ‘‘ Full-house”’ are nearly or quite the 
same. He did not learn until a year or two after the time of this dictation that the name should be 
ye ie Full-house and refers to the hospitality of a man who has always a ‘“‘full house”’ of guests.— 


"““23he seems to mean iron gray.—G. L. W. 


282 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


rested on the dog’s back was put on fur side out (Fig.112A). It was 
sewed with thong in such a way as to give a smooth seamless surface 
underneath. (See cross-section, Fig. 112B). In Fig. 112A are two loops 
made of small strips of dressed skin, sewed, one longitudinally and the 
other transversely, on the cushion (Fig. 112, A, 6, c). The loop or thong 
Fig. 112A, ¢, is the larger of the two. The use of these two loops is shown 
in Fig. 111; to the smaller is tied a short soft thong which is fastened to 
the breast band (Fig. 111e) to either end of which is tied a longer thong 
which passes under the larger loop (Fig. 112A, c). This longer thong or 





Fig.112 Fig 113 





Fig. 111. A Dog Travois. The following measurements of the parts of a dog 
travois apply in each case to the distance between designated letters: a-b, 8 feet 5 
inches; a-p (length of stump), 3 inches; p-i (length of cushion), 19 inches; g-r 
(width of basket), 2 feet 1 inch; s-t, 18 inches; b-d, 3 feet 9 inches; length of thong k 
(one half of neck collar), 18 inches; I-n, 5 feet 6 inches. 

Fig. 112. Cross-section of Construction of Pad on Dog Travois. 

Fig. 113. Position of Straps, Breast Band, etc., when Travois is not in Use. 


strap passes around the left pole under the dog’s belly and was finally 
tied to the right hand pole at h. (Fig. 111h.) The loop, Fig. 112A, ec, 
was about three and one half inches long. 

Turning now to Fig. 112A, a, a’, and a”, it will be noted that three 
thongs pass through both layers of the cushion and fasten it down: 
Fig. 112A,bis a loop already described, sewed on by passing the ends down 
through the cushion and making them fast on the under side. It is to 
this loop that the breast band is tied by a short thong (Fig. 111f). The 
longer thong (Fig. 111g) passes through the loop c (Fig. 112A), three and 
one-half inches long. Fig. 112B is a cross-section of the cushion, showing 
the method of folding the piece of buffalo skin with the seam at the top. 
This, of course, was so that the lower surface would be smooth and not 
fret the dog’s back. 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 283 


In Fig. 111j and k are shown the two thongs that descend and are 
tied around the dog’s neck for a collar to hold the travois in place. This 
neck collar must not be confused with the breast band (Fig. 111e). 

Fig. 112A shows two thongs which descend toward the basket from 
the lower edge of the cushion. These (Fig. 1111 and m), are really but 
one strap tied at the middle to the loop c of Fig. 112A, the same loop 
through which the thong passes forming the dog’s belly band. Each end, 
1 and m respectively, is wrapped once, spirally, around its pole and bound 
down at n and 0, respectively, to the pole and the basket hoop. The free 
ends, / and m, in Fig. 111 now become the straps that bind the load on the 
basket. These binding straps and the neck collar were never taken from 
the frame of the travois. When it was not in use, the pack straps / and 
m could be tied loosely to the neck collar, the breast band thrust under 
them, and the travois stood up on end (Fig. 113). 

The dog travois basket was woven exact- 
ly like the wheel for the hoop game, but that 
for a horse travois was quite different (p. 276). 

The two poles of a dog travois had very Fig. 114.- Buffalo 
short stumps above the joint where they crossed Shoulder Bone used in 
on the neck of the dog. When a dog was har- Skin Dressing; x, portion 
nessed, the stumps of these poles should not of the bone cut out. 
touch his ears or the back of his head (Fig. 116). 

The Mandan dog travois and harness were exactly like those of our 
tribe, as was also the Mandan horse travois. The packing straps (Fig. 
1111, m) were absent on a horse travois. The measurements of a dog 
travois will be found under Fig. 111. 

Dog Travois Loads. The travois of my dog, Bob-tail, was loaded 
with moccasins and material for mending them. I had twelve pairs of 
moccasins, for myself and my husband, some old, some new, in a bag like 
that shown in Fig. 95. I also put in the bag a piece of buffalo skin about 
two and a half feet square with the hair on, for winter moccasins; a good- 
sized piece of tent skin; an elkhorn scraper; a child’s cloth blanket; a 
round, flat stone, two and one half inches in diameter, for sharpening the 
scraper; a child’s robe made of a piece of buffalo skin; a buffalo shoulder 
bone, a porous piece (Fig. 114) used in dressing hides; an iron awl; a 
butcher knife wrapped in a piece of skin; and a bunch of sewing sinew, 
as big as my two palms, containing all sorts of sinew, of buffalo, elk, ante- 
lope, and deer. At x (Fig. 114B) is shown the place where the bone is 
cut out. I do not know why we wrapped up a knife when we packed it up 
to carry it on a journey, but we always did; probably because it was 





284 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


sharp and might cut through the bag. Finally, the bag was tied up and ~ 


covered with half a buffalo skin which we used at night for a bed cover. 
This was spread over it, fur down, and bound down to the baskets with 
the travois pack straps. 


Two of the women in the party carried knives in their belts. Though 
I did not follow this custom on this journey I often did on other occa- 
sions. I used to hunt with my husband twice a year, once in summer and 
sometimes in winter, and on such occasions I carried my knife in my belt. 


Of the other two dogs, one was named Maxite-kikcic,! from Maxi’ite, 
a feather cap worn by the dog imitators’ society and kikci, worn or wear- 
ing, or thing placed upon. (This cap was covered with magpie feathers 
to each of which was attached a weasel tail.) The dog’s name may 
therefore be translated, Wears-feather-cap. Wears-feather-cap was a 
large black and white spotted dog. Small-ankle thus named him because 
he once killed a Sioux who wore that kind of a feather cap. This dog, a 
castrated male, belonged to Strikes-many-women and Red-blossom, my 
mothers. f 

The second, also a castrated male, was a large white dog with big 
yellow spots and also belonged to Strikes-many-women and Red-blossom. 
He was named Ita-cuka-akaic, or Took-away-his-horse. 

Strikes-many-women’s native name was Mfa-aht-nikic; that of 
Red-blossom, Odakapaki-hicic, Blossom-red. 

As I did not pack the travois of these two dogs, I do not know just 
what they carried, but I feel sure that they too carried supplies for mak- 
ing moccasins. I remember that a stone hammer and a round stone were 
part of one load. These were used for pounding dry meat, for cracking 
' bones for making bone grease, and for pounding corn into meal. A hide 
was spread under the stone to catch the meal. One of the dogs carried 
the wooden pestle belonging to the corn mortar and a skin mortar like 
that shown in Fig. 92c. Some wooden bowls, tin dishes, a few horn 
spoons, and a brass kettle formed part of the loads. This brass kettle 
had a mouth about twenty inches wide and was high enough to reach to 
my knee. I used to boil it full of bones three times to obtain bone grease 
enough to fill one bladder. 


The Arikara borrowed this kettle whenever the Buffalo Imitators’ 
society or the Black-tailed Deer imitators wanted to boil water and paint 
their legs red; when the water was hot they leaped in, danced a few times, 
and then jumped out again. This kettle was originally obtained from 
the Arikara. ‘ 


; 





1924. ] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 285 


In loading this kettle on the travois, a wooden bow] was placed inside 
it and then an old tent skin was wrapped around it and tied. The travois 
on which the kettle was carried was covered with a robe which was used 
as a bed covering at night. The travois dragged by the second dog was 
covered with an old brown tent skin. 


Bull-boats. Fig. 117 is a diagram, drawn from a model, of a bull- 
boat! lying mouth down over a dog travois basket. The following 
measurements were taken from the model, which consisted of two long 
poles to represent the travois frame and two ropes coiled in circles upon 
the poles, one representing the travois basket, the other, the edge of the 
up-turned bull-boat :— 


a-f 8 inches 
b-e 6 inches 
d-g 6 inches 
a-e 4 feet 9 inches 


I think these measurements are approximately accurate and I have 
given them so that no mistake may be made in any diagram or model 
which you make of a bull-boat being carried on a dog travois. 


How Bull-boats were borne on the March. I have said that we crossed 
the Missouri in bull-boats. These we carried with us, either on horse or 
dog travois. A dog could very readily carry a bull-boat made of buffalo 
cow skin, but a bull skin boat was too heavy for a dog. Ona dog travois, 
a bull-boat was always bound mouth down, but on a horse travois, the 
boat might be lashed on either way. Very often it was bound on mouth 
up and kettles or pots were thrown into it; or else children, though never 
old people, rode in it. Ona horse travois the bull-boat was bound either 
to the basket or to two cross bars. If the boat was to be carried mouth 
up, a blanket or robe was laid over the basket or cross bars, to prevent 
the skin from wearing; otherwise no blanket was necessary. 


1Jn 1910 Goodbird stated that, ‘‘ The skin of a buffalo that was to make a bull-boat cover included 
the tail. An ox’s tailis cut off. But in old times the buffalo’s tail, being longer, was left intact, at least, 
that is as I understand it. A stick is thrust into the tail and when it dries the tail is held rigid. The 
stick is bound to one of the ribs in the boat. The tail is put in such a position that when paddling the 
boat the tail is always behind. 

In paddling a bull boat the paddler kneels in the boat and puts his paddle in the water directly in 
front. He always kneels so that the three bottom ribs of the boat will not lie athwart the course taken; 
and, as I have said, with the tail in the rear of the boat.”’ 

In 1911 he stated that, ‘‘A bull-boat ought to be made as flat-bottomed as possible. This bull-boat - 
is not very good for it is rather round bottomed.~ Such a: boatis easily: tipped. In old times the bull- 
boat was rather a woman’s craft, though the men used it also. Often a war party would float ina 
bull-boat by night, down into the enemy’s country, steal horses and ride back, abandoning the boat. 
The hide should always be hair out. Hide should be put on green from the animal. If there is a leak, 
thrust a little twig through the hole and plaster on inside with sticky mud. If the leak is small, the 
twig plug is omitted.” 


286 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural H istory. [Vol. XV, 


It was an ordinary occurrence for us to take a bull-boat! when travel- 
ing along the Missouri, so that we had some means of crossing; even 
hunters did this. Fig. 118 is a drawing of a bull-boat on a horse travois, 
made by Goodbird under my direction. It will be noted that the horse 






Fig. 11S 


hit f Fig.116 





Fig. 115. The Hidatsa Dog: Two Kinds af Tail are shown, Stumpy and Bushy. 
Fig. 116. Travois Harness properly adjusted on a Dog. 

Fig. 117. Diagram of a Bull-Boat lying Mouth down over the Travois Pole. 
Fig. 118. Method of Fastening a Bull-Boat to a Horse Travois. 


carries a load on either side of the saddle. The boat was tied to the 


travois by passing a thong or rope between the end of one of the ribs of | 


the boats and the skin cover and thence down to the travois basket be- 


1A good account of the bull-boat is given by Boller, ibid., 75-77. “The squaws, inverting the bull- | 
boats over their heads, carry them to a point above the village, and then set out on their return, reaching 


the shore considerably below the starting-place. The woman with their boats over their heads resemble 
huge black beetles crawling along the sand-bar.” (Boller, 2bid., Tae) 


For the methods of carrying bull-boats, see the sketch by Kurz, ibid., 39; also, “‘ Nach dem Frith- © 
stiick war das Ufer sehr belebt: Jager und Pferde wurden von squaws in Booten aus ungegerbter Biiffel- — 


haut iiber den Fluss gerudert.”’ (Kurz, ibid., 36.) 


ee ae 


—_— 






1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 287 


neath. It was tied in four places, before, behind, to the right and left 
(Fig. 117). 

While it may seem strange that it was possible for a dog to drag a 
bull-boat on a travois for such a distance, it was not so severe a task as 
might appear. In old times, our packing dogs were about the size of a 
timber wolf. Our old dogs looked a good deal like wolves; though they 
had much broader faces and had strong, firm legs. The tail was usually 
bushy. but was sometimes quite short or nearly wanting. In Fig. 115 
Goodbird has drawn a picture of one of our dogs. He has drawn the tail 
in the two ways I have described; one is bushy and the other is short and 
stumpy. Most of our dogs had bushy tails, but others were common. 





Fig tg 
Figi20 


Fig. 119.  Buffalo-bird-woman riding on a Travois with Feet to the 
Right, and holding Her Baby on Her Left Arm. 

Fig. 120. Buffalo-bird-woman riding a Horse ahi Her Baby tucked 
inside her Belted Robe. 


By Travois and Horseback with my Babe. As the weather was quite 
chill it was necessary to take gaod care of my child on the march. After 
the birth of my son, I sometimes rode on horseback and sometimes on the 
travois. On horseback, I wore a belt outside my robe and thrust my babe 
within, on my left side, with his feet downward (Fig.120). If I rode on the 
travois, I sat as on the floor of our lodge, with my feet to the right and 
my child on my left arm (Fig. 119). It will be observed (Fig. 119) that 
the robe is wrapped about me, but I wear no belt. In his drawing Good- 
bird has perhaps given the robe too much the appearance of a blanket. 

If an Indian woman is right-handed, she sits on the ground with her 
feet turned to the right; for this reason she carries her child on the left 
side. 


288 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


In Fig. 120 it will be noted that a thong passes around my knee. 
When I mounted the horse, my husband drew down my skirt and robe 
and tucked them under to my knee. When all was adjusted, he bound 
them over my knees so the cold wind could not ascend and chill my body. 

When I rode on the travois, I sat on a cushion of buffalo robes. 
Usually, two robes were spread over the basket, then a third had a thong 
passing through three or four of the holes always found on the edge of a 
robe. When I had gotten in, this thong was drawn and tied, making a 
kind of sack, and I sat in the mouth (Fig. 119). This again was done to 
prevent the cold air from chilling my body. 

Occupants of a Tent, Names and Relationship. The following are the 
names of the occupants of our tent. I will first give the native names, 
then the age and relationship of the individuals. 

Small-ankle, Ica-tsi’/kipic! 

Small = small of leg between ankle and calf 

Strikes-many-women, Mia-ahti-diki’c 

Women-many-he | strikes 
Bear’s-tail, Naxpitsi’/-ticic 
Grizzly rump 
Red-blossom, Odakapaki’-hicic 
Blossom red 
Sioux-woman, Ita-hdtsi-miac 
His-arrow-long-woman 
Wolf-chief, Tséca-matse-i'tsic 
Wolf -man_ -chief 
Otter, Midapokec 
Otter 
Red-kettle, Midaxa-hiséc 
-red 3 

Full-heart, Nat-océc, Nata, heart, and oce, filled (Goodbird translates this later 

as Full-house). 

Flies-low, Mikasha-nuwic, Flies-low, goes along (said of a bird whose habit it is 

to fly close to the ground). 
Son-of-a-star, Awdhudixic, Name of an Arikara chief. 


Small-ankle was fifty-nine years old. 

Strikes-many-women and Red-blossom, were wives of Small-ankle, 
and full sisters. Red-blossom was about fifty years of age and Strikes- 
many-women about three years younger. 

Bears-tail, thirty years old, was a son of Small-ankle and Gorn- 
stalk,? a deceased wife of Small-ankle. Corn-stalk was a Crow woman 


‘Jt will be noticed that Hidatsa proper names end inc, pronounced like sh, in English. It is 
almost equivalent to our custom of beginning a proper name with a capital letter. Thus, maka 
means a spring; but Mdhac is Spring, a man’s name.—G. L. Ww. 

2The native word means the small extra stalk or sucker which often comes up beside the main stalk 
ofja maize plant. . 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 289 


and was not related either to Red-blossom or Strikes-many-women. 
Corn-stalk died when Bear’s-tail was about six years old. 

Sioux-woman was the wife of Bear’s-tail and was about four or five 
years older than her husband. Sioux-woman’s father was a Dakota, 
who had married into the Arikara tribe. Her mother died but her father 
remained with the Arikara. In a battle with the Dakota her father was 
killed by his own people since they did not know he was a Dakota. 
Sioux-woman married an Arikara who left her; later, she married Bear’s- 
tail. 

Wolf-chief was the son of Small-ankle and Strikes-many-women. 
He was about twenty years old. He had been married about one year 
and his wife was two years younger than he. 

Red-kettle was a boy about ten years of age, a son of Strikes-many- 
women and Small-ankle. 

Full-house was a boy about seven years old, a son of Small-Ankle and 
Red-blossom. 

Flies-low was about sixteen years of age and a son of Small-ankle 
and Red-blossom. | 

Son-of-a-star, my husband, was thirty-two years of age. This was 
the second year of our marriage. His father was Moccasin-string and his 
mother, Root. Son-of-a-star had an Arikara chief for a friend and called 
the Arikara, “‘father.’”’ When Son-of-a-star struck coup on an enemy and 
won an honor mark, the Arikara gave him the name of his Arikara friend, 
Awahu-nakad&. Of this compound, awdhu is the ‘name of a band of 
Arikara, and nakaddé means “yellow” and refers to one having a light 
complexion and yellowish hair. In translating this name into Hidatsa, 
we translated it ‘‘ Aw&hu-dahic”’ which might be interpreted, ‘light com- 
plexioned Arikara”’ or “‘fair-skinned Arikara.’’ It happened also that 
this Arikara chief had another name in his native language, which trans- 
lated means, Son-of-a-star. When a census was made of the Indians on 
the Reservation, the interpreter, knowing that my husband was named 
after the Arikara chief and knowing that the chief’s name was Son-of-a- 
star, translated this name into English as my husband’s and he was so 
enrolled on the Agency books. This is how he came to be called Son-of-a 
star, but really his name was Awahu-dahic, or Fair-skinned-Arikara. | 

I, Buffalo-bird-woman was thirty years of age. My mother, 
Wia’-tic, or Want-to-be-a-woman, died when I was six years old. Wia- 
tic was a full sister of Red-blossom and Strikes-many-woman. | 

The Mandan Tent Tie. Insetting up tents, the Hidatsa used a four- 
pole foundation. The great advantage in employing this method was 


290 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 







Fig.12\ 


Otter 


Wolf Chief _ 


SA 
>< 
& *k 


Fig. 121. The Mandan Tipi: A, poles tied on the ground; B, the tripod founda- 
tion set up; C, the framework. 

Fig. 122. Groundplan of Tent used on Tribal Hunt, showing Position of Beds, 
Fireplace, Household Utensils, etc. 


that in ordinary weather it was unnecessary to draw a lariat around the 
top of the poles at the place where they converged to steady them and 
strengthen the tie. The foundation poles of an Hidatsa tent interlocked, 
as the fingers of the two hands may be made to interlock. The Mandan, 
however, used the Dakota tent tie which needs to be reinforced by a lariat 
drawn around the poles at the top. In Fig. 121 may be seen the Mandan 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 291 


tent tie: in A, the three poles are tied together for the skeleton frame. 


Ta tie these poles, they are laid on the ground and fastened at the joint 
(Fig. 121). It will be observed that pole c projects beyond the others at 
the top. This is for the purpose of making the front of the tent slightly 
longer than the rear so that the smoke hole will be directly over the fire- 
place. Fig. 121B shows the skeleton frame after the tie has been made 


‘and the framework has been set up, while in Fig. 121C will be seen the 


groundplan of the completed framework. Fig. 121C (a, 6, and c) pre- 
sents the three foundation poles as already described, a resting upon 6 
and b upon c. The remainder of the poles for the completed framework 
are then set up in order as shown in the following table :— 


_a rests upon b 
b rests upon ¢ 
d rests upon a and ¢ 4 
e rests upon ¢c and d 
f rests upon c and e 
g rests upon e (under d) 
h rests upon g and ¢ 
i rests upon h and ec 
j rests upon a and b 


The tent cover is tied to the pole, 7, in the same manner as in an Hidatsa 
tent. Then the pole is raised between f and c and the tent cover drawn 
around the frame. 

It will be noted (Fig. 121B) that:a lariat hangs from the tie. When all 
the poles but 7 have been set up in the framework, this lariat is drawn out 
from beneath the poles, a and 6, and carried quite around the frame in 
such a manner as to draw the poles snugly together at the meeting point. 
The arrows in the diagram (Fig. 121C) indicate the direction in which the 
lariat is drawn. After it has been drawn once around the poles, the pole j, 
is raised and the lariat drawn around far enough to enclose this pole. 
Then it is drawn inside the framework, between j and c and anchored to a 
short post, or pin, driven into the ground. The owner of the tent draws 
the cover around and laces it in place. Finally, the two poles that hold 
the smoke flaps are raised. | 

Our Tent, Construction, and Poles. The buffalo skin tent used by 
our family during this hunt was of my own construction. The hides ob- 
tained during a summer hunt were used for tent skins, for parfleches, bags, 
and rawhide robes, but never for robes; while those obtained on the 
winter hunt were tanned for use as robes, bed coverlets, bedding, and 
winter moccasins. This was our old-time custom. I never eels of any 
who used winter hides for a tent cover. 


292 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. {Vol. XV, 


The tent we carried with us on this hunt was of thirteen large cow- ~ 


skins which my husband had brought in. I scraped the skins clean, 
taking off every little bit of flesh that still clung to them, dried them, 
removed the hair with an elkhorn scraper, oiled them, and hung them in 
the sun. To tan a skin I soaked it in water over night and the process 


was completed by evening of the next day. When the skins were tanned 


and ready, I cut them myself. Cutting tent skins was a sacred office and 
followed as a profession, so that not everyone in camp could cut the skins 
of a tent cover. 

When the skins had been cut a party of about nine women was in- 
vited in to sew the tent forme. For this work, I gave them a feast con- 
sisting of one wooden bowl full of corn balls, one kettleful of boiled 
sweetcorn, one kettleful of boiled dried buffalo meat, one panful of bis- 
cuits, and one kettleful of coffee. In case a tent cutter was hired in addi- 
tion, special food had to be prepared for her. 

The tent poles were of pine [spruce] brought to the Sitges by visit- 
ing Crow. In spite of the fact that they did not grow on our Reserva- 
tion, we always had a great many of these poles. They lasted a long 
time. There were fifteen poles to our tent, including the two that up- 
held the smoke hole flaps. The tent door was of an old cloth blanket. 
On the hunt, the tent door was often made of a deerskin hung fur inside 
so that whenever anyone went out of the tent, the fur of the door skin 
fell smooth against the head and body. For this reason, the fur was 
hung head up. 

In Fig. 122 is shown a diagram of the floor of our tent. 

a, Red-blossom’s bed; b, articles of food piled here for safety, also 
any meat brought in from the hunt, skins, ete.; c, bed of Small-ankle and 
Strikes-many-women; d, bed of Bear’s-tail and Sioux-woman; e, bed of 
Wolf-chief and Otter; f, bed of Red-kettle, Full-house and Flies-low; 
g, bed of Son-of-a-star and Buffalo-bird-woman; h, dishes, bowls, cups, 
' spoons, and the like used at meals, piled here when not in use; 7, fire- 

place, 7 and k, firewood. . 

Dr. Wilson adds:— 

A study of the arrangement of the beds of the tent of the Small-ankle family and 
of that of the arrangement of the beds in the earth-lodge as shown by Goodbird’s 
‘diagram, reveals quite a marked contrast in the plan. It will be noticed that the 
arrangement of the beds in the tent gives precedence in age, beginning at the left, as 
one faces the door from within; while in the earth-lodge precedence is given, begin- 
ning at the right. Thus, in the tent the first bed on the left is Red-blossom’s, the 


oldest of Small-ankle’s two wives. Next is that of Strikes-many-women; then comes 
that of Bear’s-tail, the oldest son; then of Wolf-chief, a younger son; then of Red- 


1924.] . Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 293 


kettle, bed of Buffalo-bird-woman and her husband. Buffalo-bird-woman is a daughter 
and of course, Son-of-a-star is not properly a son of the household. 

Questions put to Buffalo-bird-woman did not reveal any strong realization of the 
idea of precedence. When asked why the beds were arranged in this manner, she 
simply replied that it was custom, or that it was always so, and some of her answers 


- apparently more intelligible, were answers to some leading questions and I have 


therefore omitted them as being valueless. It will be noticed, however, that the beds 
are laid head to head and feet to feet, or heads and points, as the early English accounts 
of Eastern Indians put it. The exception is the bed of the three boys, Red-kettle, 
Full-house, and Flies-low, but this Buffalo-bird-woman explained was because there 
was not room enough to put all the beds lengthwise, and this particular one was turned 
with the feet toward the fire in order to make a little more floor space. I questioned 
her very carefully whether the beds were so put so that the children would have their 
feet to the fire, and was very careful not to put any leading question, but I could not 
draw out any such idea from her. 

I could not draw from her which of Small-ankle’s two wives was his favorite wife. 
But as a rule she spoke of Red-blossom’s bed in those terms, while the bed of Strikes- 
many-women was usually called the bed of Small-ankle and Strikes-many-women. 
The same thing was observed when she spoke of the beds in the earth-lodge, but she 
spoke occasionally of Red-blossom’s bed as that of Small-ankle and Red-blossom. - In 
the earth-lodge diagram, the bed is spoken of by Goodbird as the bed of Small-ankle 
and Red-blossom. It will be noted in this diagram that the bed, 7, belonged to 
Red-kettle and his wife, and is lower down in the scale than the bed, h, of Buffalo-bird- 
woman and her husband. Red-kettle was a younger brother of Buffalo-bird-woman, 
but here again, bed 2, is that of Flies-low, a younger unmarried brother. 

It will be seen that both in the diagram of the tent and in the diagram of the 
earth-lodge, the beds f and / respectively, belonging to young boys, are placed toward 
the lower end of the line, but not at the extremity. Now whether this was done for 
the purpose of protection to the children, I could not discover. It may be that bed, J, 
in the earth-lodge was erected after the marriage of Red-kettle and was put in this 
position merely because the occupants of the other beds already had their places 
determined, and had become accustomed to them. 

The question of precedence and dignity in the family has been a difficult one for 
me to draw from Buffalo-bird-woman as it was so evident that her ideas of the rights 
and dignities in an Indian family differed so radically from mine, and because with 
her the sense of tribal community in a measure drowns out the question of rank, but 
it may also be that my own comparative ignorance of this subject may be the cause 
of my lack of success in getting at the desired information. It is very likely that 
further study ‘may reveal what I have not yet been able to obtain. 

But apparently the heads and points arrangement of the beds is not observed 
in the earth-lodge as in the tent. Goodbird speaks of the dislike of the Hidatsa of 
having the beds lie with the head toward the east, but Buffalo-bird-woman says that 
this custom was not always observed. 

We placed our beds in the tent in the same manner as that described 
when my husband and I and five other couples went on a hunt afoot 
(Fig. 77). Between each bed and the fire, lay a log. The space between 


the log and the tent wall was filled with grass and the whole covered with 


294 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


robes. The logs were laid in this position for two reasons: to keep the 
shape of the bed and to prevent the sparks from the fire from setting fire 
to the grass. These small logs were placed near the bed when wood was 
plentiful, especially if we expected to camp in the locality for some time. 
When we camped in the hills where wood was scarce, or if for any reason 


we were in a great hurry or it was inconvenient to obtain logs, we did not. | 


use them. In the diagram (Fig. 122), the boys’ bed did not have these 
logs since it was turned around with the feet to the fire and there was no 
need of them. The bed was thus turned because there was not room 
enough for it to lie lengthwise in the tent. 


Naming Goodbird. When Goodbird was ten days old, we called in 
Small-ankle to name him. It was a common custom to call in some older 
person, whom we esteemed highly, a friend of the family, or a medicine- 
man, to name the child. Such a person was presented with food and other 
gifts. In this case, nothing was presented to Small-ankle since he was a 
member of the family and related to the child. 


Small-ankle picked my little son up in his arms, and said, ‘‘ His name 
shall be Tsakaka-sakic.”’ I do not know why he called him by that name, 
but perhaps he was thinking of the gods. We believed in thunderbirds. 
The thunder is the roar of the bird’s voice and the lightning is the flash 
that comes when he opens his eyes. We Hidatsa worshiped the thunder 
spirits a great deal. 

Descending the Missouri in Bull-Boats. Throughout the winter we 
camped at a place called Round Back, on Bark Creek, where there was no 
timber. We built neither cabins nor earth-lodges, but lived in tents and 
kept warm by means of the fires we built in the middle of the tents. 
Though we had not been successful in our hunt on the Yellowstone, we 
had plenty of meat for the winter, for we found buffalo three times before 
the winter was over and our men were successful each time. 


Before we broke camp in the spring we held the ceremonies of the 
Goose Women society! and hung up meat. Most of the members of the 
tribe returned to the Yellowstone, but Small-ankle’s and One-buffalo’s 
family, two tents in all, went up the Missouri, where we found ten buffalo 
and made a killing. 

After we had killed these buffalo, four more tents caught up with us, 
those of Strikes-back-bone, Old-bear, Long-wing and Spotted-horn. 
To each of these my father gave one whole buffalo skin for making bull- 


boats and one half a buffalo carcass. The meat was not dried. Besides — 


re en NNEae 


1This series, vol. 11, 330-338. 


| 





: 1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 295 


the buffaloes, he had also killed three elks and Wolf-chief had killed two 
or three deer. The meat was brought into camp by dog and horse travois 
-and was dried there. | 
In April, as soon as the ice broke on the river, and the ducks began 
to come north, we moved back to the Yellowstone, where we built new 
-bull-boats. Our family already had one which they had brought from 
Like-a-fish-hook village. I had previously made two boats and now made 
two others, making five in all. One morning, when all was in readiness, 
we took the boats to the river. My husband and I loaded one with dried 
meat; we bound this boat firmly to another, which we entered. We 
placed as much dried meat in our own boat as we could safely carry, also 
a gun, and an ax. In the boat which was bound to ours, we put a much 
larger load of dried meat and hides, besides Small-ankle’s son, Flies-low, 
a boy about seventeen years of age, and my little son, Goodbird. Flies- 
low carried the baby in his arms. A third boat, loaded to its utmost 
eapacity with hides and dried meat was bound to the tail of Flies-low’s 
boat. | 
My husband, Son-of-a-star, and myself paddled with two oars. 
Following us came my two mothers, Red-blossom and Strikes-many- 
women. They also had a boat bound to their own, at the tail of which 
_Strikes-many-women had tied our tent poles so that they would float in 
the current. We had thrown away all our dog travois which we had 
brought from Like-a-fish-hook-village. __ 

My father, Small-ankle, followed along on the opposite bank driving 
our horses. He did not drive them along close to the water, but back on 
the edge of the foothills. Sometimes, Wolf-chief went with him and 
: helped him; sometimes, all the men accompanied him; especially, if 
they wanted to hunt. The rest traveled in their bull-boats. There were 
_ ten boats in the entire company, five tents beside our own: Spotted-horn, 
Guts, Old-bear, Strikes-back-bone, and One-buffalo, and our own tent. 
Spotted-horn and Old-bear came along on the bank, driving their ponies. 
- Guts and One-buffalo and Strikes-back-bone each had boats. Spotted- 
d horn’s wife also came in a boat. 

. In Fig. 124 is a diagram drawn by Goodbird under my direction, 
- giving the order of the boats and their loads.! 

: Sometimes the waves became quite choppy from the wind or the 
_ current at some places was unusually swift. This was especially true 


; 
- 









1There seems to be a slight discrepancy between the number of boats in the diagram and the number 
_ enumerated by Buffalo-bird-woman. In such cases, the diagram should probably be given preference, 
as an error is much more likely to be made by the interpreter in the translation than in the drawing of 
the diagram.—G. L. W. . 


296 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 
when we came to a point in the river where the wind was directly against 
the current. At such times we all drew together and grasped the gun- 


wales of each other’s boats in our hands (Fig. 123). Boats thus bunched 





Mil. SSO. oRa Rod: MeBa 


-2UI0S SdATM 
S3}{Uy [[BUIS 


i + 
Oo) O's 
oe) 
gt 2 ° 
Ae 
& 
# 
FEO, 
fog 


OJIM pure 
127G-B-F0-U0S 
pAlq-poog 

oT Sally 


: 


M 
OS[e J[SSUILY Sout, 


ng pue 
axe’yealf 
Soply 
yey 
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¢) 
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(2) 
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Dogs and Horses Fig.124 





Fig. 123. Diagram showing Method of bunching Bull-Boats to prevent 


their Overturning in a Strong Current. 
Fig. 124.° Diagram showing the Order of Bull-Boats as they floated 


down the Missouri. 


together could ride through a choppy current much more easily than a 
single boat. However, we did not tie these boats together, but. merely 


drew them close with our hands. We loosed them again as soon as the 
dangerous part of the current was passed. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 297 


Goodbird is nearly Drowned. At the mouth of the Little Missouri 
River, we almost had a fatal accident. When we left our winter camp in 
the west, the grass was growing and the snow had disappeared, but as 
we came down the Missouri, a snowstorm came up very suddenly. A 
_ strong wind blew; as we rounded the bend at the Little Missouri River, 
the water was very rough and the waves tossed our boats around so that 
_we were all frightened. Of course, we turned toward the shore, both my 
husband and I paddling vigorously. Usually, in paddling a bull-boat 
when a husband and wife are together, the wife kneels in front and 
paddles while the husband sits in the tail of the boat to balance it (p. 
256). Coming down the Missouri, towing a load, was a more difficult 
operation, so both my husband and I paddled side by side in the boat. 
Suddenly, my husband stopped paddling and leaned over the side of the 
boat so far that I was nearly pitched over on his side. A bull-boat is a 
clumsy, tub-like craft, easily upset. My husband leaned over so far 
that the edge of the boat came clear down on his stomach. ‘He has 
dropped the child,” I heard him cry, and saw him lift my baby into the 
boat. ‘Ind,’ I cried, but I had presence of mind enough not to drop my 
paddle. Indeed, we could not have reached shore without our paddles. 


As I have already explained, Flies-low, my younger brother, was in 
the second boat, holding my son, Goodbird. It was customary when a 
young child cried, to loosen his cradle clothes. After my husband drew 
the child into the boat, I found that Goodbird’s clothes had been so 
treated. Probably the child had become restless and Flies-low had 
loosened his clothes a little to give him room to move his limbs. This 
loosening of the cradle wrappings had made them buoyant, so that the 
baby floated on the water and my husband was able to rescue him. 


We came ashore without any further mishap and camped in two 
tents. It began to rain, then the weather turned colder and a heavy 
snow began to fall and continued for four days. Many of the summer 
birds had already come north and when the storm was over we found 
some of them frozen to death. 

My father, Small-ankle and Charging-enemy, who were driving the 
horses along the bank, did not stop to camp with us, but hurried on 
through the storm to Like-a-fish-hook village. They reached the vil- 
lage safely and drove the horses down into the timber. In the summer 
time, when the air is a little chill and one goes bathing in the river, it 
always seems warmer in the water than outside where the chilly wind 





1An exclamation of alarm. 


298 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


strikes one. Down in the timber where we drove the horses there were 
some ponds, and the horses found it was warmer to stand in the ponds 
than to remain out in the snow and storm. They waded into the water 
and stood there. Of course, they had to come out after a while and as 
the wind was blowing very cold, they became chilled. Three of them 
sickened and died: a mule, a mare, and the shaggy horse. Another 
man in the village lost eight horses and still another, ten horses, in this 
same way. After the storm was over, our company re-embarked and 
paddled safely down the river to Like-a-fish-hook village. - 





Fig. 125. Flies-low in a Bull-Boat holding the Infant 
Goodbird in a Storm. 


Goodbird was crying lustily when we drew him out of the water, but 
was not choking or strangling. I do not think that his face got into the 
water at all. I do not remember now whether Flies-low made any outcry 
when he dropped the infant into the river or not. I did not scold Flies- 
low. ‘I am not to blame,” he said. “I tried to hold the baby, but 
that boat seemed to turn upside down and the baby fell out of my arms.” 

We knew this was true, so we said no unkind words to him. In 
Fig. 125 Goodbird has drawn a picture of Flies-low riding in the boat with 
Goodbird in his arms. The wavy lines on either side of the boat are the 
waves of the Missouri, and the dotted lines show how the boat rocked in 
the waves. This is not exaggerated. When a windstorm blows against 
the swift current of the Missouri, the waves become very high and are- 
always dangerous. 


WOLF-CHIEF’S HUNT WITH DOG AND TRAVOIS 

In August 1911 and August 1915, Wolf-chief related the following 
account of a hunt made with dog and travois. 

In the spring of 1866, when we were living in Like-a-fish-hook village 
and I was about seventeen years old, my father, Small-ankle, invited me 
to go with him to Little Knife Creek to hunt beaver. Little Knife Creek 
is a branch of the Knife River and is now called Spring Creek. Our five 
villages once stood at the mouth of Knife River. 

- Horses and their Equipment. We saddled two horses for mounts and 
in addition took three extra horses, one of them saddled with a flat 
saddle, as he was a buffalo horse, a racer. My father rode ahead and 
led one horse; I followed, also mounted, and drove the two remaining 
horses before me. Four of our horses bore frame saddles of horns of 
white-tailed deer. Such saddles were considered better than those of 
wood, since they did not gall the horse’s back. My father was a good 
saddle maker and kept his saddles in good repair. Our extra: horses were 
not loaded. 

Tied to the rear of the saddle that Small-ankle rode were two steel 
traps with the chains tied together and wrapped in a piece of tent skin. 
He had rolled up two pieces of tent skin and had laid them behind my 
saddle and bound them to my saddle horn. My father and I each had 
two robes. I doubled one of my robes, flesh side up, and threw it over 
my saddle; my father did likewise. As we rode, we each wore a new robe, 
fur side in, belted about the body. 

The Dog and Travois. We had one dog and travois and on the 
travois we carried a small hatchet, a hoe, and a small brass kettle, also 
some parched corn balls and pounded parched corn for mush. All these 
we wrapped up in some canvas we obtained from the soldiers. 

The dog’s name was I’ta-c’ipihé-dakapec, or Face-painted-black- 
killed. I had once owned a very gentle old dog and named this dog after 
him. The dog followed along in the rear. As we did not care to hurry, 
we did not travel very fast. We knew the place we were going to was 
only about forty miles from Like-a-fish-hook-village and we could reach 
it before sunset.' ; 

Weapons and Ammunition. My father had a muzzle-loading flint- 
_lotk and I had a short-barreled percussion rifle and my bow and arrows. 
My bow was of elm wood and I carried eighteen iron-headed and four 
blunt-headed arrows in my quiver. We still used arrows at that time. 


1He probably means sunset of the second day.—G. L. W. 
299 


300 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


We used our guns in battle with our enemies and to kill deer and antelope; 
but powder was scarce and not much used in hunting buffalo. 

Snowblindness. It was in the month of March. There were two or 
three inches of snow on the ground and I remember that when our dog 
became thirsty he ate snow. The sun was shining brightly and the glare 
from the snow made me snowblind. When we camped that evening my 
eyes hurt frightfully. I felt as if sharp sticks were thrust into them. 

In Camp. We reached the camping place and dismounted. My 
father untied our dog from the travois. He was a good dog and not very 
tired. As soon as the travois was removed he rolled in the snow, getting 
up and shaking his hide, but not barking. We also unloaded our horses, 
but did not hobble them. ‘‘They are tired and will not stray far,” said 
my father. We had made about twenty miles that day.’ 

Setting upa Tent. Our horses 
attended to, my father began putting 
up the frame of our tent. He raised 
the travois, stayed it against a forked 
pole, and against these leaned other 
poles, which he brought from the 
timber. Fig. 126 is a sketch of the 
tent drawn by Goodbird after, my 
description. It was about six feet 
high and I remember I had to stoop 
a little as I stood within by the fire- 
place. It was covered with three 

Fig. 126. The Tent used during pieces of old tent skin, two at the 
Wolf-chief’s Hunt. — front and one at the back. My 

father pierced holes in the skins with 
his knife and through the holes drew thongs to lace the skins together. 
At the front of the tent, the edges of the upper skin did not meet, but 
the space thus left open was filled in by the netted thongs of the travois 
basket. The door was under the travois basket. Its covering was 
a saddle skin with the head cut off, hanging fur side in. As will be 
noted in the sketch, the tent was tied in front in two places. 

Hunting Badgers. I had bound a handkerchief over my eyes and 
tried to help my father. ‘Make a fire,” he said, ‘I want to see if I can 
get a badger. There is a prairie dog town near by, and badgers are 
commonly found near a prairie dog town.”” My eyes hurt me so that I 








1Wolf-chief apparently said that the first day’s journey was forty miles (p. 299). It would seem 
that twenty miles is correct.—G. L. W. 


. 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 301 


was afraid to make the fire lest the glare make the pain worse. I went 
into the tent and lay face down on my saddle skins, with my dog be- 
side me. 

The Evening Meal. My father soon returned. ‘I have a fat 
badger,” he said. He dressed it, made a fire, put the meat into our kettle 
and added some mint blossoms and chokecherry bark which he had gath- 
ered when he was hunting the badger. “They will give a fragrant smell 
to the mess,” he said. He boiled the meat in water from the creek; when 
it was boiled, he threw out the water and added fresh water. Badger 
flesh is rather strong and must be parboiled. ‘‘Come and eat,” said my 
father. ‘“‘No,”’ I answered, ‘‘my eyes hurt so that I don’t think I can.” 
He laid three short sticks before me and put one side with the ribs on 
them. I rose and ate heartily. “I will give you more if you want it,” 
said my father. ‘It is pretty good,” I said, and my father gave me an- 
other piece. I had never eaten badger meat before. 

Watering the Horses. Because I was afraid the light would hurt my 
eyes, our fire was outside the tent, but as it was not dark yet, we ate 
inside. Then my father said, ‘‘I must water my horses.’”’ He went off 
to find them. After watering and hobbling them he returned and said, 
‘‘T have seen no tracks of beaver. The creek is still covered with ice.” 
He watered his horses at a place where the river was shallow and the 
current.ran swiftly over the stones. Such places often remained unfrozen 
throughout the winter. | 

Interior Arrangement in the Tent. We went to bed, my father on 
the north side of the tent; Ion the south. My dog slept at my side. Our 
saddles were laid against the tent wall. In this case, we did not use tent 
pins or stones to hold down the edge of the tent covering; it merely 
hung to the ground. The floor of our tent had been scraped free of snow 
with our hoe. We had brought the hoe with us to scrape the snow from 
our camping places. Our guns lay near us. ‘‘ Put your gun beside you,” 
my father had said to me. ‘If enemies fire at our tent, pay no attention 
to anything, but seize your gun.” I laid my gun between myself and the 
skin covering of the tent with the barrel pointing in the same direction 
as my head. We had a small fire outside our tent. We carried with us 
one drinking cup. 

Cooking Bones. We remained at this place all the next day. My 
father went afoot up the river to look for game. He found a pile of 
bones left by a party who had killed buffalo; and brought back as many 
of them as he could carry, as they were fresh and had not spoiled in the 
cold weather. He brought them for the bone grease (marrow). I do not 


° 
& 


302 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


know whether he carried them in his arms or on his back. My eyes hurt 
so that I did not see them. ‘‘There are the remains of a Sioux camp not 
far away,” said my father. ‘“‘I found these bones there. They must have 
killed a great many buffalo since they left these bones lying on the 
ground.’ He went outside the tent and pounded the bones with our 
hatchet (small ax) and cut them up. -‘‘I have found a great deal of 
grease,” he said. He meant, of course, that the bones were rich in grease. 
‘A short distance from here, I found something very good to eat,” my 
father said, as he showed me some kind of a mushroom which we call 
mida uaneeon from mida, wood, and etané’’pa, navel. 

Mushrooms. After taking out the bones, my father put the mush- 
rooms in the broth and boiled them. They were very good and tasted 
something like squash. I had never eaten them before and never since 
then. I do not know whether my father learned to eat them from white 
men or Indians but I do not think he learned of their use from white men. 

Treatment for Eyes. My eyes hurt for three days. My father 
dropped some gunpowder in my eyes to cool them. Snowblindness some- 
times turns the eyeball white. “If after you are well,” said Small-ankle, 
“we find a white spot on your eyeball we will chew a piece of straight 
sage leaf mixed with charcoal and slip it into the eye. This will re- 
move the white spot.”’ I have heard of this remedy from other members 
of our tribe. Wolf-grass once told me, ‘‘I once accidently whipped my 
horse over the eye when chasing a buffalo. I chewed sage and charcoal 
and spit it into his eye. The horse shut his eye and shook his head. I re- 
peated this three times. The white spot on my horse’s eye will never 
appear again.’’ My father was familiar with this remedy. The gun- 
powder hurt my eyes a little, but felt cool, nevertheless. My father 
wet a little on his palm, I lay on my back and opened my eyes and he 
dropped a little of the wet gunpowder on my eyeball. 


Capturing and Eating Porcupines. We stayed in this camp for three 
days and then moved up the river about fifteen miles, to some small 
timber in a coulée. As we approached the timber I saw something move 
and called to my father, ‘“‘What is that ahead of us?”’ ‘A porcupine,” 
he answered. I gradually raised my head, and sure enough, a porcupine 
was running toward the timber. It was going rather fast. ‘Let us 
camp here,” said my father, ‘‘and we will have porcupine for supper.” 
We dismounted. My father cut a stick and killed the porcupine. When 
a porcupine is frightened he tries to hide in the bushes. My father — 
struck the porcupine on the head; he dragged the animal to camp, — 
holding it by a foreleg to avoid the spines. ‘‘ Make a fire and burn off all 
the hairs and quills, and we will eat the skin,” he said. ) 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 303 


I built a fire and held the porcupine over the coals. When the quills 
were all singed I scraped them off with a stick. I opened the belly and 
skinned the animal, leaving all the fat and some of the meat on the skin. 
I took off the skin and fats and adhering flesh, but without any bones 
clinging to it. I roasted this fat skin. I cut a green stick forked at one 
end in three tines like a white man’s fork. On these, I laid the porcupine 
skin and held it over the fire. After the entrails were removed the rest of 
the carcass was broiled. While I was broiling the porcupine skin my father 
said to me, ‘‘I saw another porcupine in an old cave in a bear’s den. I 
think it will be easy to dig him out.’’ He took a hoe, went down to the 
den, and built a fire to thaw out the ground. While he was doing this, I 
called out to him, ‘‘ This fat skin is done.’’ The porcupine skin had been 
taken off in two pieces, one piece from each side; but I had broiled only 
one piece which I laid on the grass. It was very good, quite fat and very 
tasty. After supper, we went out for the other porcupine. My father 
dug and I helped him. We dug about six feet. Then my father looked 
into the hole and pushed a long stick into it. ‘It is still a long way in,” 
he said, ‘‘but I think you can crawl in and get the porcupine. Bring one 
of those ropes we used for tying our horses.’”’ I brought two thong lariats. 
He tied one of the lariats to my foot. ‘‘Creep in,” he said, “‘and when 
you touch the porcupine try to tie its two hind legs with the other lariat. 
As soon as you have done this, shake your foot, and I will draw you out 
by the lariat while you crawl backwards on your elbows.” 


I took the rope and crept in for some distance, but did not see the 
porcupine. It was very dark inthe den. I began to perspire. I crept on, 
but the air was exhausted and I could not breathe. I went a little farther 
and touched the bed of the porcupine. Feeling around carefully with my 
fingers, I touched the porcupine. My breath was coming in long-drawn 
gasps. I felt around for one of its legs, tied the second lariat to it, and 
shook my foot. I tried to crawl backwards on my elbows, but felt very 
weak. My father pulled and I came out. The porcupine had taken 
possession of an old bear’s den that had partly caved in and the roof 
was so low that I could hardly thrust my head under, but the hole was 
wide enough for my body. ‘‘ What is the matter?” cried my father, when 
he saw me. “I do not know,” I answered. ‘‘My breath is all gone.” 
My father brought some snow and said to me, “‘ Rub this over your face 
and head.’”’ I did so and felt better. However, I was very weak and lay 
down on the side of the hill and thought to myself, ‘(I nearly died in that 
hole.”” Meanwhile, my father pulled on the rope tied to the porcupine’s 
foot, but he could not pull the porcupine out. “Can you help me?” he 


304 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. | [Vol. XV, 


asked. ‘No,’ I answered, “‘I am too weak.”’ [I rubbed some more snow 
on my head and face and felt somewhat stronger. My father and I seized 
the lariat, the porcupine’s hold was broken, and we pulled him out slowly. 
I think he had found something to hold on to and that was why my father 
could not pull him loose at first. Small-ankle killed the porcupine with a 
blow on its head with a stick. I had tied the lariat to the porcupine’s 
right foot. I knew that the porcupine would not fight when attacked and 
for that reason I was not afraid. When I went into the porcupine’s den I 
wore mittens and when I felt around for the porcupine I slipped my hands 
palm downward flat on the ground. I knew that a porcupine when 
disturbed would shake its tail, but the animal always does this with an 
upward motion, never downward or side to side. Sometimes when a 
porcupine shakes its tail the quills fly out. 

When we returned from the porcupine’s den my father burned the 
bristles and hair from the animal and skinned it, just as I had done with | 
the first one. He cut the meat from the sides and legs in strips, tied them 
together, put a pole over the fire, and slung the strips over it to smoke 
them. The meat from one whole porcupine and of half the other was 
thus smoked. My father boiled half of one porcupine. The next morning 
my father boiled the smoked meat and I found that smoking it had made 
it sweeter. 

The Smoke Offering. From this camp we went on about fifteen 
miles and camped in some box elder timber over night. The next morn-. 
ing we continued up the river and turned north. Now my father became 
snowblind. ‘My eyes have been snowblinded,” he said, “look to the 
north and you will see some high ground called Women’s Butchering 
Trap.” North of that is a lake where one can always find buffalo. We 
will camp there. We Hidatsa believe that buffalo have their home in 
this lake.’ We arrived at the hill called ‘‘Women’s Butchering Trap” 
and climbed it. “Look to the northwest,” said my father, “Do you see 
any big timber?” ‘‘Yes,” I answered, “about twenty miles away.’’ 
“That is it,” he said, ‘we call the timber, Facing-across-the-river. Now 
I want to smoke.” 

My father dismounted, filled his pipe, and smoked, offering some of 
the smoke to all the gods of the world. Holding the pipestem at an up- 
ward angle and towards the northwest, the direction in which we were 
going, he cried: ‘‘O, you gods in this world, smoke. I want to have good 
luck in everything in this hunt.”’ Then he ate. 

The Buffalo Hunt. We mounted our horses again. Below, we saw 
some tracks in the snow. When we came up to them we found they were 





1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 305 


buffalo tracks. ‘‘There are buffalo tracks here, father,” I called. 
“Good,” he said, ‘‘the tracks lead in the direction of the lake.’ Take 
your race horse and chase the buffalo.” I took off my robe. I wore a 
coat of white blanket cloth with black stripes. ‘‘I will use my arrows,” 
I said. “No,” said my father, ‘‘take your gun. These are a bull’s 
tracks and a bull has a tough hide.” “All right,” I answered and took 
my gun. 

I soon saw the bull lying beside the lake. He fled and I followed. 
The bull floundered along in the rushes and snow, breaking through the 
thin ice, but running very fast, so that my horse gave out. I turned and 
spied three more buffaloes on the east side of the lake. I was now on the 
south side of the lake. I returned, glad to leave the rushes and the snow, 
and met my father, and said to him, “‘My horse has given out and that 
bull is also mired in the snow.”’ “ What kind of a bull was it?”’ asked my 
father. ‘“‘A sharp horn,’ I answered. ‘They are always strong,” said 
my father, ‘he will get out all right.”” I told my father of the three 
buffaloes I had just seen on the east side. He said, ‘‘I want you to chase 
those three buffaloes; I want you to killa fat one. At this time of the 
year the fat ones have a patch of black hair over the eyes for the fat under 
the skin makes the animal shed earlier and the new-grown hair is very 
black. Also, there is a black stripe on the highest point of the spine over 
the shoulders and there is a little black hair around the horns.”’ 

“All right,” I said. I went on and found the buffaloes lying down. 
As I approached they jumped up and ran. I followed, picking out one 
with the black spots as my father had described; the hair of the others 
was a dull brown in,the spots. -I aimed at this one, but as I had never 
used a gun before, the barrel shook in my hand and I felt sure I could not 
hit the buffalo. Nevertheless, I rode close to the side of the animal and 
fired. I guess I hit the buffalo in the leg, for he kicked. I tried to load 
my gun, but could not with my horse running, for I spilled my powder. I 
slowed down and loaded my gun, ramming the bullet home with a little 
piece of cloth. I gave chase a second time and saw that the buffalo was a 
little lame. I fired; he kicked again, but went right on running. I 
stopped to load again, then I drove the buffalo in a circle around toward 
the camp. My father saw us coming; I heard a shot and when I came 
up saw my father on one side of the hill, waving his gun and calling, 
“This is the way a man shoots. What have you been doing?” he was 
making fun of me. 

The next day we started back to Spring Creek. The ice on the river 
was not yet broken and though we had seen some beaver dams we had 


306 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


killed no beavers. However, we discovered a herd of five buffalo bulls on 
our way. ‘I want to give chase to those buffaloes,’ I said to Small- 
ankle. ‘‘Good,” he answered, ‘‘but you had better take your gun. I 
fear you are hardly strong enough in your arm to use arrows.” ‘Yes I 
am,’ I said. ‘‘Have you not heard that I have already killed a grown 
buffalo with an arrow?” “TI think you should take your gun,” said my 
father, ‘‘but use your arrows if you will. Now let me tell you again how 
to judge if one of the bulls is fat. As you come close, observe if the hair 
along the spine and just back of the eyes is black. Those so marked are 
the fat ones.” | 


The reason of this is that the black hair marked where the buffalo 
had begun to shed his hair. Under the black spots were layers of fat 
that in these places made the buffalo shed a little earlier than his leaner 
fellows. But such a sign was of value only in the spring and was found 
only on bulls, not on cows. 


I mounted my horse, a large gray one without saddle. I wore a coat 
made of a white wool blanket, bound about with a belt. I tied my quiver 
to the left side of my belt, and gave chase to the herd. Observing one 
with the signs my father had described, I singled him out, and soon 
caught up with him. Coming very close and knowing just where to 
shoot, I released my arrow. It sunk in half its length. I followed a little 
way until I saw blood gush out of the buffalo’s mouth. Then I reined in. 


The buffalo slowed down, stopped, and stood swaying. More blood 
flowed from his mouth and his fore legs bent under him. He tried to rise, 
sank again; tried once more to rise, but could not, and fell over on his 
side, dead. | 

He lay on his left side, with my arrow sticking out of his right. I 
thought to get my arrow, then said to myself, ‘‘No, I will bring my 
father here and show him how I can kill a buffalo with an arrow.”’ So 
I mounted again, for I had gotten down to get my arrow. 

Small-ankle sat on a little hill awaiting me. “How has your hunt — 
come out?” he called. It came into my mind to have a little fun with 
him. ‘Badly,’ I answered, ‘‘I did not kill one!” “I told you that you 
could not kill a buffalo with your arrows,” he said. ‘‘ You would not take 
a gun when I urged you.” 

I laughed and answered, ‘‘Mount your horse and come and see.” 
I led his horse, both of us mounted; my father had covered his eyes, as 


they pained him greatly. Snowblindness was a common trouble with us — 


in the spring. 





1924. ] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. 307 


We came to the dead buffalo. ‘‘There,” I exclaimed, ‘‘see that!’’ 
‘““My father uncovered his eyes a little and saw the buffalo. He put his 
hand to his mouth in astonishment. “You have shot it just like a man,” 
he cried. ‘‘ Now sit down and rest yourself and I will dress the carcass 
for you. This is the fattest bull I ever saw.’’ He knew the bull was fat 
from its looks. 

Butchering. My father skinned the bull, cut out the meat for drying, 
and laid the pieces on the sod where the snow had melted and left the 
ground bare. When he had done, he opened the belly and pulled out the 
intestines:and paunch. In the cavity of the body was now some warm 
blood. 

“T want to drink some of this blood,” said my father. He filled his 
joined palms and drank two or three times. ‘‘ You do likewise, my son,” 
he said tome. “If you are going to eat the fresh liver and kidneys and 
that part of the paunch’’—(he meant the part that is filled with thin 
stuff like leaves) —“‘ you should first drink a little blood. It will save you 
from getting sick in the stomach.” 

I drank some of the blood, but did not like it. ‘‘ You need not drink 
much,” said Small-ankle. ‘‘You have drunk enough to keep the raw 
liver from hurting you.” 

The Tent Collapses in a Snowstorm. We camped at night on a hill 
and Small-ankle made bone grease. A storm came up and it began to 
snow. ‘‘We must move our camp down into the timber,” said my 
father. ‘‘Our tent may blow over up here.’”’? The next day we moved 
our tent down in a coulée out of the wind and pitched it in a place near a 
big tree where it was protected by some bushes. It snowed all day. In 
the evening it was still snowing, but we went back to our meat pile near 
our former camp on the hill to take our meat back to our tent. Snow 
was still falling when we went to bed. I slept that night on the west side 
with my head toward the rear of the tent. The tent door was toward the 
south. 

Our tent poles were small and not heavy enough to support the 
weight of the snow. I do not know how it happened, but apparently the 
snow on the side of the hill above us on the west drifted and came down 
upon me. My father awoke during the night to find the tent giving way 
and weighted down with the snow. The space inside the tent was re- 
duced almost to nothing. He sprang across and found me under the 
snow, unconscious. He carried me to the farther side of the tent, sang a 
mystery song, and felt my heart. Like one in a dream, I heard him sing- 
ing. Gradually, my senses returned. ‘Are you alive again!”’ cried my 
father. ‘Yes,’ I answered, my breath coming in gasps, as I sat up. 


308 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


My father held me in his arms, as I sat on the ground, but I was 
able to sit up right only by leaning my head against the tent wall. The 
wall was icy cold, but I could not sit up otherwise. ‘I once heard,” said 
my father, ‘‘of a tent being covered with snow. The people inside hit the 
walls of the tent with their hands and kept the snow from crushing it to 
the ground.”” He struck the tent wall repeatedly at one side, driving back 
the snow and packing it; after a while he had quite a space cleared. 
“You sit here,’ my father said. I moved over to the side where he had 
been working and he attacked the other side of the tent. At last, he had 
the tent restored to something like its normal shape. 

I suppose I had been pressed down. with the snow and was dead 
(fainted). As I have said, my father felt with his hand and felt my heart 
beat. He put water on my face and sang mystery songs until I revived. 
In the meantime my dog was running around over head. 

“Father, I am hungry,” I said. ‘I don’t wonder,’ answered my 
father, ‘‘I think we have been here for three days. You ought to be 
hungry.” He took two boiled buffalo tongues and one buffalo heart 
from a bag which lay on his pillow. We ate all the meat, for we were 
hungry. I felt my face and hands and said, ‘‘ Father, I am well now.” 
“Good,” he said, ‘‘Let us try to find our hoe. I laid it just outside the 
door.” We both worked at the door, pushing and shaking it until finally 
my father worked his way out and I heard him cry, ‘I have found it.” 
I still felt very weak. All this time our breath froze as soon as it struck 
the cold air. There was no fire in the tent and I found that the hood that 
formed part of my coat was torn off at the neck. Doubtless, it had frozen 
to the ground and had been torn off when my father pulled me from my — 
bed. My father had just found the hoe when suddenly we saw light 
above. Before this it had been quite dark. It looked as if the snow up 
there was not very deep. “I will try to push a hole through that place,” 
said my father. He pulled a buck brush from his bed and tearing off a 
piece of his shirt, he bound several of the buck brush sticks together, 
reached up, and punched a hole in the snow above the smoke hole of the 
_skin tent. We saw that it was daylight and the snow was still falling. 
The air coming down the smoke hole made me chilly. 

My father now dug with the hoe into the snow at the door and as he 
dug I kept shoving the snow back into the lodge. We both wore our 
mittens, but my father covered his head with a saddle skin set over his 
hair like a cap. He cut holes in the edges of the saddle skin where they 
overlapped and stuck a stick through to skewer the edges together. This 
saddle skin cap prevented the snow from falling on his bare head, as he 


b) 





1924. ] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culture. | 309 


was digging a tunnel through the snowdrift. He had tunneled for a 
distance of about twelve feet when he said, ‘‘ My knees are very cold, will 
you try to help me?” I put on his cap (Fig. 127) and went to work. I 
threw the loose snow back into the lodge, quite filling it. We continued 
to work in this manner and finally I broke through the drift about 
eighteen feet from the tent. We had worked on our knees and dug a tun- 
nel high enough to kneel in; the snow was at least ten feet deep. The 
mouth of the tunnel was about eighteen feet from the lodge and breast 
high from the ground, for we found that we had not 
tunneled along on top of the ground at all. 

When I finally reached the outer air I found that 
the day was quite pleasant and not very cold. We had 
noticed geese going northwest before the storm came up. 
As my feet touched the ground, I shouted ‘‘Good,”’ and 
as my father appeared, I cried out to him, ‘I see only 
the head and shoulders of our race horse.” ‘That is 
unfortunate,’ answered my father, “perhaps the other 
horses have perished.”’ 

Small-ankle and I dug the horse out with our hoe. 
When we had dug the snow away from one side, he fell 
over, as he was unable to stand when no longer sup- 
ported by it. We built a fire to warm the horse. He 
bent his legs and stretched them. I gathered some dry Fig. 127. An 
grass from the side of the hill and fedhim. We also Improvised Cap 
warmed the saddle skin my father had used as a hood worn as Protec- 
and rubbed the horse’s legs with it. “Try to rise,’ my om against 
father said to the horse, ‘‘and I will make an offering palas 
of red cloth that you can wear as a necklace. I will do 
this as soon as we return to the village.’”’ We worked over the horse a 
long while. Finally, I seized him by the tail while my father held his 
head and together we raised him to his feet. He fell again and I raised 
him, whipping him with a stick. He got up weakly. I brought him 
more grass; he ate anything, biting off even the tops of sticks. I walked 
him about. My father hunted around and finally spied our other four 
horses in a bunch in the hills to the north. 

When I had tunneled through the snow my dog met me at the mouth 
of the tunnel. While we were still in the tent, my father and I heard a 
noise overhead which we thought made by a ghost, but it was only my 
dog on the snowdrift above us. 

We remained at this spot the rest of that day and through the night, 
digging the tunnel out to the ground, to reach our tent. We cut the 


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310 - Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. XV, 


sinews used to sew the tent skins together and in this way Tomoye the 
cover, piece by piece. We abandoned the poles. 


The Return Trip. We set out on our return trip the next day, load- 
ing our meat on two of our horses. Our fast horse, the gray, we did not 
load. We never put a heavy burden on a race horse or hunter, for fear 
of injuring its speed. Of meat fit for drying, we Indians reckoned there 
were twelve pieces or cuts to a side. A cow could be loaded on a pony, 
even with a few more pieces added. We divided our meat between two 
horses to make the loads lighter. However, we packed some firewood 
on the top of each load, since we knew we could get no more fuel until 
we reached the Mieco 


The snow was very deep so that we had to stop nee camp after we 
had proceeded about a mile. The following day was quite warm, so we 
made our way along the tops of hills and rising ground, for the coulées 
were filled deep with drifted snow. Even then, we often found it neces- 
sary to dig a trail through the snow with our hoe. However, as the day 
wore on, the snow melted, filling the coulées with water, making it more 
and more difficult to travel. Finally, about sunset, we reached our vil- 
lage, footsore and weary. 


The Feast. All our relations now came into our lodge, and my 
mother cut off pieces of the meat we brought and gave some to each. At 
that time there were four white men living in the village who had 
married into our tribe. One was named, Mr. Pakinaw;! another was Mr. 
Smith’s father; a third, was named Pete Boshan; a fourth was named 
Maldly. These men were of the people our folk call the Big Knives. 
They said ‘‘sacre-e-e’’ whenever they got angry. 7 

My father called these four white men to his lodge. My mother had 
boiled a good part of the buffalo meat and my father gave a portion to 
each of the white men, much more in fact than they were able to eat. 
What they could not eat, they took home with them. We did not like to 
have any one to whom we had given food, fail to eat it, or at least take 
the uneaten portion home. If our gift or any part of it was left we said, 
‘“‘He does not like it!”’ and it made us feel bad. 

In those days we did not use much coffee, but drank the broth our 
meat was boiled in for a hot drink. We had learned what coffee was 
and we were fond of it; but it was very hard to get and what little was 
brought into the village, the traders usually kept for themselves. 


1Spelling of names is phonetic, after Wolf-chief’s pronunciation.—G. L. W. 





De ee nae ene ee Oe ee 


1924.] Wilson, Hidatsa Horse and Dog Culiure. 311 


One of the four white men was a trader. They left the lodge as I 
have said, taking their uneaten meat with them; but they soon re- 
turned, each with a present of a little package of eae done up in a 
cloth, and a bit of sugar, also in a cloth. 

The coffee was green. We parched some of it that same day. When 
parched we put it in a corn mortar and pounded it fine and boiled it in a 
copper kettle. Later we got kettles of brass, and after them kettles of 
iron. 

We drank the boiled coffee liquor with the sugar. The grounds that 
were left we dried carefully, parched them in a pan a second time, and 
boiled them again. This second boiling tasted almost as good as the 
first. | We did thus because coffee was then so hard to get, and so expensive. 


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by this means, as early historians believed. Mr. Locke ‘has succeeded in 


_ locating forty-nine quipus, of which forty-two are in the collections of | 


ity ns as ‘The American Museum. Price, $3.00.° 
hag ot 


CRAG Lous Re "ESSENTIALS OF ANTHROPOMETRY 8 | 


12 pages, 15 illustrations. Black leatherette, flexible, pocket size. 


GS, el, Dr, Sullivan has prepared this small book for the assistance of field 
@ ee : a "workers i in phys enthropology. ite A 75. 








